Marcy Abong
Dr. Jay Fogleman
EDC 102H
12 September, 2014
Waldorfian
I am a former Waldorf student. Waldorf is a type of education created by Rudolf Steiner that is rooted in art and nature; in short, a young child's dream. My first Waldorf School, Potter Hill, used to be right down the street from URI. The building it used to be in is now inhabited by The Compass School. Sometimes, when I drive on Shermantown Road I'm transported back in time to the my first days at Potter Hill. I am suddenly five years old again and I can ‘see’ my new classroom so distinctly. When you first enter the room, there are cubby's with each student's name and symbol on them. My symbol was a tree. Perhaps it was chosen at random, but I like to think I was assigned that tree for a reason. I was destined to one day stand tall, both literally and figuratively. As the years passed, nurtured by caring teachers and a remarkable style of education, I matured into a strong and productive person. Through artistic and nature-centered instruction, my early Waldorf education taught me to be a deep learner.
I have very fond memories of those first years of school. That's when we learned about Plura Plus and Murray Minus, addition and subtraction, and also how to write in cursive. I found this foreign script to be beautiful and challenging, especially capital letters. My classroom felt like home. When I think back, it seems less like a place I went to school, and more like a place I did art projects and played with my friends. There were no standardized tests that I can remember, until about the sixth grade. No televisions, computers, or calculators were ever used. We weren't even allowed to have digital watches. We were, however, rich with creativity and imagination. We would spend what seemed like hours in the forest, making forts, climbing trees, collecting clay from the stream. I pray to never lose the connection with nature that I developed over my eight years in Waldorf. That is something for which I am eternally grateful.
I am also grateful for the sense of wonder and magic that was instilled in me at Potter Hill. There, I was raised on the belief that there were gnomes in the forest, little spirits that I had to respect. Why? Well, because the forest was their home, and I was only a visitor. I always had the feeling that I wasn't alone in the woods. Not in a scary sense, but more like I was always protected and that the spirit of the forest was watching over me. That spirit was like a combination of God and my mom; I couldn't see it, but I knew all it wanted was to make sure I was safe. That sense of openness and innocence is something I hope to revert back to. As I read in the excerpt from What the Best College Students Do by Ken Bain, I agree that rediscovering childlike curiosity fosters a passion for learning. I know that I once had this ability, and intend to retrieve it. As I grew older, the sense of wonder was harder to hold onto. It was easier to be caught up in the magic of this education system when I was a young child, and knew nothing of tests, computers, and term papers. So much of what I learned did not come with the anxiety of a looming test. This allowed for enjoyment and excitement rather than memorization and fear.
And I always knew that not every school was like mine. I had friends who went to public school, and often I felt inferior to them because I was taught in a different way. I first got a taste of public school when I visited my best friend Lucy at her school for a day. Sheffield Elementary School was a large brick building that sat neatly on a concrete lot. “Huh,” I thought, “No forest.” The differences were immediately apparent, and continued to mount as the day progressed. It was on that day that I was introduced to something called "the worksheet," which I would become all too familiar with once I reached high school. In Lucy’s gym class, we sat on the shiny wooden gymnasium floor and stacked cups. Apparently this was considered physical activity in the eyes of the Newport Public School System. What I learned from my visit was this: my school was so much more interesting.
I relocated to a new Waldorf School in the fourth grade when Potter Hill was closed. Meadowbrook Waldorf School was older than Potter Hill and had a stronger foundation, allowing for even more experiences than I had previously. Everything we did was so interesting and engaging that I never felt like I was at school. It was not lecture structured, but hands-on instead. For example, there was something called ‘Handwork’ class. Early on in Handwork we learned to finger knit, then crochet, and eventually to knit and sew. Both boys and girls had Handwork, although there were far more girls than boys in my class. We also all learned to work with wood, using knives, rasps, sandpaper, saws, etc. The things I made in those classes are some of my most precious treasures. Also dear to me are my countless work books with hand drawn illustrations and fountain pen writing, each book representing a different year and lesson learned. Unlike the cold and unfriendly binders and textbooks I currently use, I would never discard my work books. They not only contain information I learned, but also artistic renderings of particular lessons. Writing about all of the things I used to do at my two Waldorf schools brings me an overwhelming sense of yearning. I always knew Waldorf was special, but I could not see how much I have benefited from it until now.
In reflecting on my early education, I have realized that I was extremely lucky. To grow up in a learning environment that felt like a family allowed me to approach schooling with an eagerness and sense of love that not everyone experiences. Throughout those eight years I grew and flourished into a strong, capable, and yes, tall being - very much like my symbol from Kindergarten, a tree. Back then, I did not view learning as a chore, but rather as an opportunity to expand my mind. Those early years were instrumental in shaping my point of view towards education, and also the world. I learned that there is goodness everywhere and that no matter how old you are there is always more to learn. Most importantly, I learned that you are never truly alone, especially not in the forest. Important moments, fond memories, and the most influential people you will ever meet can sometimes be found in a fourth grade classroom. A fourth grade classroom is a magical place, where the future adults of our world learn about simple machines, geography, history, and how to interact with other curious, unmolded minds. This time period is so crucial and mystifying becuase kids either dream of who they want to become, or notice who they do not want to be. I can't say I know this from a teacher's perspective and I can't say for sure if educators realize how heavy a role they play in a child's life, but I know first hand the priceless value of these early years. I learned one of my greatest life lessons in the fourth grade. Kindness and amiability are small, priceless virtues to give to the world.
In Mrs. Lee's class on the top floor of Flemming Elementary school, my class of twenty-something fourth graders were traveling all over the state of Vermont without ever leaving the classroom. Up on the board there was a map. We were split into teams of four or five for a race across the state as the miniature Ethan Allen's we were pretending to be. In order to travel the greatest distance, your team had to collect the greatest amount of buttons, either by cleaning up, listening to directions, or answering trivia about Ethan Allen correctly. I did not think much of it; I always did as I was supposed to in class. So, I went off to lunch after our geography lesson ignorant of my own self-goodness.
It was then in Flemming's cafeteria that I saw Jessica. Jessica was different. I remember meaningless physical features such as how she was obese as a fourth grader, she had short dark brown hair that was nearly black, she was slightly shorter than I was at the time, and Jessica had special needs. I also remember that Jessica was the nicest human being I had ever come across, and now looking back I believe that she still is the kindest person I've met in my lifetime. One time I missed a day of school and returned to a Get Well card from Jessica. I did not think anyone had even realized I was gone, but Jessica did. That was just the kind of person she was. Jessica wasn't bullied, not that I can recall. But that day in the lunchroom that smelled of fish sticks and floor cleaner, I saw that Jessica was sitting alone. Nobody likes to sit alone in the fourth grade, so I sat next to her. I sat next to her because Jessica was kind without bounds and for that she was beautiful. It was unbeknownst to me that I had created attention to myself and was being watched. By the time our class returned from lunch, Mrs. Lee announced to the class that I had earned ten buttons for my team toward our Ethan Allen race, and then she asked me, in front of everyone, if I had any idea why. I didn’t. She explained to the class of the lunch scenario that I had not even thought of as significant because all I did was sit with Jessica. I turned to look at Jessica only to see a giant grin of innocence and happiness on her face.
Kindness and amiability are small, priceless virtues to give to the world. I didn’t know this until the fourth grade. Jessica taught me this and I was fortunate enough to experience it for myself. Mrs. Lee taught me of its importance and taught me that small kind acts make a big difference. For this Jessica is a strong influence in my life, even though I haven't seen her in years. Mrs. Lee too is responsible for when I learned how good kindness feels. She made a big deal out of what seemed to me as nothing of importance. I’m not sure that I would have recognized that I had done a good thing if Mrs. Lee did not make me feel like I had done a good thing. And maybe without her I would not have carried that moment with me. Maybe I owe all of my future acts of kindness to Jessica and Mrs. Lee for letting me in on the secret that it feels good to make other people proud and happy.
I still think of that moment from time to time. I still think of the small things and how they affect the people around me. I think of it when I buy gifts for my family or help my parents out with chores and get good grades. I do it partly for myself but largely I do it to make them smile or to make them proud. I’m not saying I am a saint and that because of this essential moment in my life I am always kind and that I never disappoint anybody, because I do. But because of this moment I find joy in the small kind things. Not joy for the recognition I receive, but because it felt so darn good to make Mrs. Lee proud and to know I made Jessica smile. This is what the fourth grade taught me.
An Early Childhood Influence:
By Sara Buckley
Most children are quite fond of their years in elementary school. Elementary students are not faced with the pressures of fitting in, test scores, obscene amounts of homework, and other stresses of being older. These young children wake up every morning bright and early because they are excited to learn and actually enjoy attending to school. This natural enthusiasm is a wonderful thing and it is such a shame to see it deteriorate with age.
Just as most other elementary students, I woke up each morning for school “bright eyed and bushy tailed”. I was avid and ready to learn. Every year, this pattern continued. I loved learning new things and going to school was exciting!
Sadly, this all changed once I became a fourth grader. The first day began just as any other. I was eager and ready to begin the new school year. I had Mrs. Santore who was a teacher that my two older siblings both had and loved. I could not wait to start classes and see what this year had to offer!
However, this all began to change. As the year transcended, I started struggling with the new amount of work that the fourth grade had to offer. School became a chore. I lagged getting on the bus each morning and the perpetual smile left my face. Mrs. Santore was not as fun loving as when my siblings were her students. She publicly criticized me when I struggled with a subject, began comparing me to my siblings, and surrounding me with negativity.Each day, I would come home confused and wondered why school became such a hassle.
After completing the fourth grade, I was not ecstatic to begin the fifth. However, I came in on the first day and my teacher was wonderful! She was excited to have me and treated me exactly like all of my other peers. Ms. McLaughlin made me feel as though I belonged in my class. Her positive attitude and friendly approach allowed me to flourish in her classroom. I actually became one of her “star pupils” and she eventually recommended me for advanced classes for the sixth grade. Ms. McLaughlin completely changed my elementary experience and I am forever thankful. She is one of my primary influences to become an Elementary Education major here at the University of Rhode Island.
The elementary experience is all about making learning enjoyable and fun. There are no unnecessary stresses of being an elementary student, which is one of the things I admire most about it. Their teachers create a loving and positive environment for them to learn and thrive. However, when a educator does not exhibit these qualities, it can cause a student to fall behind and become disinterested in the subject. If teachers can achieve this, then learning and education can continue to be a positive and fun part of people’s lives, no matter how old you are. Early education is a very interesting concept to me, and helping kids learn comes somewhat naturally to me. My school, aside from the preschool I went to, started in kindergarten and ended in fourth grade. My experience is probably a bit different from most other kids, who worry about leaving their parents behind for a whole day. Really, this is a monumental step in a child’s life. I missed this step a little bit. You see, I never really left my mom at all in those5years. It was a huge comfort for my brother, who is the grade above me, and me to know that if we ever had a problem, mommy was right down the hall teaching the art classes. Plus, as a bonus, we got to take a class taught by her once every week! I love the idea of education. I think that enriching a child’s mind is so rewarding. For my whole childhood, I got to watch as my mom helped kids grow and develop. I found it fascinating how a child’s mind worked when they were handed a pencil and a paper, especially at such an impressionable age. My early childhood education influenced me quite a bit, probably much more than the average kid, and I have my mother to thank for that. I learned, in the halls of my elementary school, in the chairs of my mother’s classroom, that I wanted to be a teacher too, and that has been the greatest gift of all.
Having the art teacher as your mom was a pretty awesome thing in elementary school, because who doesn't love art?! It didn't hurt that everyone loved my mom as well. From an extremely early age, I was shown the “behind the scenes” of teaching. I knew my teachers both in school and out of school, which was both a blessing and a curse. I got unlimited coloring supplies, and what kind of seven year old doesn't love unlimited arts and crafts?! During class I got to help out all of my classmates and teach them how to do projects, since I already knew what they were. I suppose that is another reason I decided to become a teacher. I learned hands on that I loved teaching other kids what I knew, and I was good at it!
There were definitely perks of having a mom as the art teacher. First off, everyone thought my mom was so cool. I got to hang up artwork for the art shows with my friends and other teachers, go out to dinner with my teachers, be friends with their kids, and not to mention hang out in the teachers lounge! For an elementary school kid, i had it made. I was a crazy kid with so much energy, and knowing every adult in the school was definitely fun, especially because i was never bored.
I also helped to tutor kids in my classes who weren't understanding the curriculum and i loved the breakthrough moments with kids when they finally understand what you're teaching. i kept my tutoring going throughout the rest of my school career, whether it was tutoring kids my age or younger (I hope to help with something like that at URI as well). I was lucky i was given those experiences and my close connection with all my teachers, especially in my early education years.
When you’re young, you repeat what you hear, you put things in your mouth that you shouldn’t, but you also learn and retain more than you could ever imagine. I like that concept. At this age, it is up to the teachers, the child, their parents, and a bit of fate how the child turns out. In most cases, the parent only sees so much, and then it is up to the teacher to discipline the rest of the time. I’m studying to be an English major, but let’s do some math… 13 years of schooling, 180 days in a school year, 7 hours a day. 13 X 180 X 7 = 16,380 hours of school in your lifetime. That is close to 683 straight days of being in a classroom. When you’re in these grades, your mind is still growing, and your teachers are the ones who make sure that you are on the right path in these 16,380 hours. I was lucky. I got watched over constantly and my mother was always in cahoots with all of the other adults in the building. This was good for me in the long run, because i was always caught with antics but i always learned from them as well.
In my case, my mom was there more than usual but not all of the time, and i still learned how to be independent. In my opinion, school is important. It is the test that a child goes through before they hit “the real world”. I’m in college now, and it is strange to think that my mom isn’t another room away, but rather a phone call. I can function perfectly fine in this setting, because my childhood years and my young adult years set me up for that, my childhood education set me up for this.
School has always been something that I have really enjoyed, both mentally and socially. i love the diversity that my school brought into our classrooms and i find it fascinating how there are so many ways to learn and so many different ways to learn them. My school, although it was in a suburban down, bused in inner-city children for classes each morning. I got to meet people who lived differently than i did, and it really opened up my eyes. School has always been something i have been passionate about. Personally, i think that i just got lucky most of the time with all of my amazing teachers, but even from the not-so-great ones, my dreams to be a teacher never faltered. Elementary school is where most of my dreams started, and with the help of my amazing teachers, my wonderful mother and my try-hard ethic, came my love for not only being a deep learner, but also to be a teacher.
Like I said, my childhood educational career was unique, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. If I went to any other elementary school, or didn’t have my mom by my side, I don’t think I would be where I am today. I am so thankful for the opportunities I have been given. Although I am not studying early childhood education, but rather secondary education, I still feel like my mom and all of the teachers that I have formed bonds with along the way, helped to push me on that path, and I am so grateful.
Meagan Coon
Academic Autobiography- Early Years
I grew up in a small agriculturally based town in western Massachusetts. One most people probably have never heard of in their life and probably never will. Southwick, Massachusetts has a total population of about 10,000 which is less than the student population here at URI. it was a small town it definitely left its mark on me growing up and I am very grateful for all of the experiences I had there.
Southwick is known as a good town and good community to raise a family; the only thing it lacked was a good school system. The past few years it has been struggling with construction, updating the buildings, and curriculum with fear of losing accreditation. Without accreditation there would no longer be any tax money to support the district. The school system has one elementary, one middle and one high school that is regionalized between three towns. Everyone from the area went through these schools unless their parents shipped them out to private school or they were transferred because they were exceptionally good at sports. Southwick is also a town full of senior citizen housing and people who do not want to put their tax dollars towards a new school. They claim "It was fine when I went there" which was back in the 1970's. The education I received from Southwick's school district was not anything special, but it was enough to get me into many good colleges.
I spent kindergarten through the 4th grade at Woodland Elementary school. I made many friends there who I have remained friends with because we went through the rest of grade school and high school together. There were not many influential teachers that I can remember and I can barely remember their names. Despite this, one memory I remember clearly is the special Education program that I took part in. I personally did not need any kind of special education. An important part of my school was integrating the children who did with the rest of the students. Southwick is a town where there is very little exposure to diversity or really anyone different from ourselves, so Woodland made it a priority to change that.
The program I took part in was a few days week during my lunch period. I remember absolutely hating it at first. I did not want to spend the time away from my friends or from the cafeteria. I did not want to be singled out in front of the classroom to eat lunch with the "different kids" My first grade teacher, Mrs. Kline, referred to it as "friendship group"but we all knew thats not what it was about. Every day a different student who was volunteered by his or her parents would be pulled aside into the special education room. We would have to eat our lunch,and play some games and make conversation with the kids who spent their days there. In the first grade this idea was horrifying. Not by choice I went along with it anyway, and I am honestly glad I did. This program is probably one of the few things that The Southwick School district got right. From a very young age I learned how wrong and unfair it is to treat those with special needs differently. I learned how wrong it is to make fun of someone who is unlike you, who is different or who has disabilities. This is something most kids do not realize at a young age and many still do not know.
One thing that has stuck with me ever since the first grade is a friend named Kyle. I met him in these programs and he has definitely had an influence on my life. I could not tell you exactly what kind of special needs problems Kyle has but it is clear when you speak with him he is developmentally delayed. This delay is definitely made up for in other areas of his mind, like his memory. I went through the next 12 years of school with Kyle and I have never met someone more happy to see me. He amazingly always remembered my name, birthday and occasionally a conversation that we had back in the first grade lunch block. Even though back at the beginning I regretted giving up my lunch blocks and saw no point in those programs I definitely do now and I am very grateful for it. Ally Corey Prof Fogleman EDC102H 10 September 2014 Academic Autobiography Entry 1 While journeying through school there are always going to be people who influence you. It could be in a positive way or in a negative way. Especially in your elementary years, a teacher could encourage or discourage you and it may affect your outlook on school forever. For me, I was influenced by many of my teachers throughout my educational career. One in particular that seriously benefitted me was my third and fourth grade teacher Mrs. Hunt. Our class looped which means that I had she same teacher and classmates for two years. Looping with an exceptional teacher as Mrs. Hunt was a transformational experience for me.
For my first three years of schooling (kindergarten, first, and second grade) I went to a private catholic school. Third grade was the first year for a big change for me. I was going to a new school, a public school that was closer to my house where I didn’t know any people. It was intimidating especially for a shy, timid girl that got red in the face whenever asked to speak. Public school was of course surrounded with rumors and how it would be much different than the catholic school I started in. Of course it was different but not in a negative way whatsoever.
Third grade is the first year where the school work shifts. Students begin reading more dense books and writing paragraphs as well as starting multiplication and division. Luckily I had the benefit of being in Mrs. Hunt’s third grade class. Mrs. Hunt was one of the best teachers in our school. At the time I didn't know how extremely lucky that I got. She was always encouraging all of us students to try our best and to never give up when the course material got tough. In both third and fourth grade, the lessons we were learning were becoming more difficult. I definitely had trouble understanding what I was learning in the beginning of third grade.
I remember one specific time she was very helpful when I was struggling with reading. We were all put into reading groups based on our reading skill. I was placed in a higher level reading group due to my success in the Catholic school but it was a struggle for me. The other students naturally read very quickly, more quickly than the caliber that I was at. I would get frustrated easily when the other students in my group would finish the pages assigned to read before me. It was easy for me to just mentally check out of reading time because I automatically assumed that I wasn't as good as everyone else. Mrs. Hunt started to notice that I wasn't contributing much to reading group time so one day after class she had asked me to stay after and we could talk about what was going on. Of course I was so nervous and timid to talk to this woman who was bursting with enthusiasm and personality. But after talking to her she encouraged me to continue to try my best during reading group and that giving up just because it's the easy way out is not the most beneficial. She told me that reading is a wonderful hobby and that I should give it a second chance. After our little talk I decided that starting in my next reading group time that I was going to ultimately give reading my best effort. Throughout the next few weeks reading group got much better. I started to pay more attention and my love for reading grew. Mrs. Hunt taught me the valuable lesson that when the going gets tough just keep trying. Reading, something that I dreaded doing blossomed into something that I thoroughly enjoy. To this day I am thankful for Mrs. Hunt’s encouragement because reading is something that brings me happiness.
Mrs. Hunt was also my fourth grade teacher as well. My whole third grade class “looped”. We were all in third and fourth grade together. It was such a beneficial opportunity because the course work in fourth grade obviously gets more difficult. Therefore I was able to be more successful by being in my same class as the year before. This experience definitely boosted my confidence and self esteem. Being in a classroom where you knew all of your peers and teacher was very comforting. Fourth grade was one of my most successful years because I was surrounded by familiarity. Mrs. Hunt knew how all of us students worked best and therefore was able to provide us with the best techniques in teaching us the more difficult material of fourth grade. That year I transformed from being very timid to being more outgoing. I wasn't as nervous to express how I felt because I was in a classroom where every face was familiar to me. I would absolutely recommend this in other elementary school settings because it did give me the confidence in myself that I can be successful in my education and that is all thanks to Mrs. Hunt.
My third and fourth grade years were very influential to how the rest of my education played out and is continuing to play out. Thanks to Mrs. Hunt I am grateful for her pushing me to appreciate the love of reading. Also I am thankful I had her for two years in a row with my same classmates because it made me into the more confident girl that I am today. Those two years showed me that I could be whatever type of student that I wanted to be. I decided at such a young age that I wanted to be the student who worked hard and never gave up on my schoolwork. For example just this past semester I was in a literature class that I struggled in. Because of Mrs. Hunt's lessons she gave me the incentive to go to my professor's office hours for extra help. Just like in reading group how I was struggling, I spoke to my professor and she helped me through the class. I'm glad that I had enough confidence to go for extra help, if I never had Mrs. Hunt I'm not sure if I would have went the extra mile in that class. The values Mrs. Hunt gave me in the third and fourth grade still impact my education to this day. My early childhood education was an amazing experience and one that I wouldn't change for the world. I had wonderful role models who introduced me to new experiences and new things. They helped me understand how I thrive on familiarity and allowed me to grow and discover my interests. One of those interests is teaching. While my early schooling was filled with amazing experiences, it also served a deeper purpose: to inspire a love of teaching and the desire pass on those same opportunities for a whole new set of students.
Looking back at my early schooling, my clearest memory was actually my very first day of preschool. I attended Barrington Early Childhood Center (BECC), a private preschool in my town. I had never experienced anything quite like it, and I absolutely hated it. This was my first experience away from my parents; I had never been a daycare child or ever even had a babysitter. I had no intentions of letting my mother leave my side, as I clung to her for dear life. My teacher, Mrs. Wolfe, eventually had to pry me off of her as I screamed and cried, desperate for my mother’s arms.
It was at that moment that another new student, just like myself, approached me while I was still crying in my teacher’s arms. Her name was Sarah. That day, Sarah became my best friend. At that young age, developing social skills is crucial. When Sarah approached me to invite me to play, I felt much more comfortable and excited to be there. She was my first friend that I made on my own, and I was proud to call her my best friend. From that day on, it was smooth sailing. My preschool became my favorite place and I never wanted to leave. I made new friends, played outside, and brought home dozens of art projects (which my mother still keeps to this day).
The next year, before departing BECC, we had a classic “What I Want to be When I Grow Up” assignment. Our job as 4-year-olds was to draw a picture, and have our parents help us write out a few words. There were dozens of astronauts, doctors, firefighters, presidents, and even a few princesses. But not me. I drew a wonderful picture of a tall girl with brown hair, in a purple dress (future me). Beneath me, stood around ten other little stick figures (my future class of preschoolers). The rest of the page was decorated with pictures of toys and surrounded by bright, happy colors. The title of my masterpiece: “When I grow up, I want to be… A Preschool Teacher at BECC! “ From day one, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life: I wanted to be a teacher.
Mrs. Wolfe was touched by my assignment. As the year was ending, , she asked my mother if she could keep the one assignment and display it in the preschool. My mother eagerly agreed and Mrs. Wolfe hung my newly framed picture on her office door for all to see. I remember feeling so proud. Our artwork had plastered the classroom walls before, but this was special. This was just me, and my work being appreciated. My artwork being so proudly displayed on the door for everyone to see filled me with a great sense of pride. I had not been so thoroughly appreciated before. Looking back, this was the first experience where I saw the power and influence of a teacher in their students lives.
Throughout my early schooling experience, I was fortunate enough to live in a top-ranking school district, filled with amazing teachers. Similar to Mrs. Wolfe, my early elementary teachers were kind and nurturing. I explicitly remember Mrs. Spaight, my second and third grade teacher at Nayatt School. She was the first teacher that I grew a deeper connection with. She was more than a teacher- she was an inspiration. I strived to be more like Mrs. Spaight. I would always volunteer to hand out papers and collect things from the class. If she ever had to leave the room, even just for a moment, she would put me in charge. I never had to do anything, but just the concept of authority got me easily excited. I knew then that I definitely wanted to run my own classroom one day.
In contrast to the normal school sequence that most students experienced, I had a different path through elementary school. As early as first grade, I had the opportunity to be in a Multi Aged Classroom (MAC), where grades one, two, and three coexisted. The student-to-teacher ratio was typical, as there were three teachers for each different grade. I loved watching the third graders, I aspired to be just like them. I could not wait to be one of the older kids helping out the little first graders. I wanted to be the best role model I could be for them. I remember being in third grade, helping a first grader with a basic addition worksheet- I was a pro at this point, and them seeking my help made me feel great. Being able to help really boosted my self-esteem, and fueled my desire to teach others my skills.
Another common trend seen in my early schooling was the repetition of teachers. My favorite part of the MAC was being in the same classroom with the same students and teachers for three years. Each successive year, it took away the stress of meeting new teachers and making new friends. I am not too great at acclimating to new environments, and this relieved all that anxiety. Personally, I do not have strong social skills. I have no problem talking to people who approach me, but my weakness lies in approaching others on my own. Being amongst people I already was acquainted with made my life a lot easier in school. I was able to focus more on school and less on working to be social. Seeing the strong positive effect of the MAC on my learning and social skills motivates me to one day help those students with the same struggles that I faced.
In middle school, I was placed into a program of the same idea, called a loop. Each grade at Barrington Middle School was divided into three clusters. Each cluster was made up of four teachers- one with a specialty in each of the core subjects: math, science, English, and social studies. In seventh and eighth grade, I was a part of Red Cluster. I had all the same teachers both years, and connections grew stronger as with the time spent. By the end of eighth grade, my teachers knew exactly how to help me learn based on my own personal learning styles. They showed me that I was a visual learner, allowing me to better my learning as I moved through high school and now into college. Through my teachers fostering this connection with me, it showed me the power of a student-teacher connection and inspired me to one day do the same for my students
My early childhood educational experiences demonstrated to me a few things about myself. I thrive on familiarity, and have been blessed with wonderful teachers who provided me with a great foundation for my education. Many of my early education teachers were inspirational in developing my desire to be a teacher. I would not change a thing about my early educational experiences. I want to provide the same experiences to my students and help them grow and realize who they are and allow them to be all they can be. As we get older, it becomes more difficult to remember experiences that we had when we were younger. I know for myself, there isn’t much I can specifically remember from my early schooling days. However, there are general concepts that I do remember. Each individual has a different experience as they go through school and receive an education. For the most part, elementary years are the building blocks for being a successful student. As you move on to grade school, you begin to learn easy concepts of math, science, English, social studies etc. In middle school, you find your circle of friends and have an open mind about finding your niche. The experiences we have throughout these early years have an influence on the person we become. I don’t remember much from elementary school. I do remember my first day of kindergarten, though. My mother put me on the bus in the morning and she forgot to give me my lunch bag as she had it over her shoulder. Before the bus pulled away from the stop, I cried and cried, banging on the window until she finally realized. What a great way to start off. I remember having naptime and having guest readers come into the class every so often. First grade was a rough year for me. My mother underwent brain surgery and I was too young to really understand. My emotions were running wild and the tears and fits never seemed to stop. Thankfully, I was lucky enough to have an amazing teacher that year. Her name was Mrs. Sorgie. She was the most compassionate, kindhearted, trustful woman I knew. I wouldn’t have gotten through that tough time if it weren’t for her. To this day, we keep in touch and speak every so often. She is someone I would like to keep in my life for a very long time. Fourth grade was one of my favorite years. During the summer, I found out that I was placed in an inclusion class. Being that I was only ten years old, I didn’t know what that meant. I can remember my parents being angry about my placement. I didn’t understand why. They told me it was because I would be too focused on helping the slower learning students, that I wouldn’t focus on myself. Ironically, my best friend was placed in that same class. So then it was a done deal, I stayed in the class. That year, I had another wonderful teacher. She was definitely one of my favorites. Mrs. LaMountain was awesome. She was a great teacher but an even better person. She had such a big heart and she gave every student the attention that they needed. She was more of a friend to me rather than a teacher. We created a very special relationship. We too, keep in touch and talk every so often. Middle school was a rebellious few years for me. I was so obsessed with the idea of being in middle school and having more freedom. Sixth grade I met my group of friends and my absolute best friends. Those relationships are still just as strong today. I also began “dating” a boy in sixth grade. It was a very unhealthy relationship that lasted way too long, but definitely helped me realize a lot about myself. I remember that I always wanted to go out on the weekends and I always wanted a later curfew. I struggled hard in classes that year because I was so into being “popular.” In seventh grade I began taking honors classes. It was then when I realized I was actually pretty bright when I set my mind to doing things. It was also seventh grade when I realized that math and science were not my strong points. I remember begging my parents for tutors because I was getting below average in those classes and that was not an option for me. Eighth grade, I buckled down knowing that my grades would transfer to high school. I took my first regents tests that year. That was the year I realized I’m a terrible test taker and that I shouldn’t always base my intelligence off my test grades. For superlatives, I won “best communicator.” My leadership skills paid off and teachers noticed my eagerness to help others and speak up. In middle school I didn’t really have a teacher who was very influential. It’s different being in their class only forty minutes a day compared to being with them for seven hours a day. My early schooling prepared me for the next steps in life. I learned which subjects were my strongest and which ones were my weakest. I discovered the subjects that interested me and the ones I had no interest in. I also learned that I’m a visual learner. By the time high school came around, I was fully prepared and ready for any obstacle that came my way. Before entering elementary school, I had created a strong bond with my older brother and my neighbors who, much to my luck, were older as well. Every day when they rode the bus home from school, I would be there at the stop waiting patiently for them, my head filled with curiosity. My brother was my best friend and I couldn’t help but want to spend every moment with the older boy who had experienced so much more than I had. Every weekend we goofed around and teased each other, becoming closer and more comfortable with who we were. Eventually, my time was approaching to enter the first grade. It was an exciting new venture, but sure enough, filled with fear and anxiety. He told me school rocked! He had so many friends and they all played tag on the playground. Boy, did he give me false hope. School quickly became a nightmare for me. I entered the school like a wrecking ball; I had no reason to be self-conscious or even question simple facts about who I was by that point. I lacked the cute, curious, mousy voice all first graders had. Without my older brother’s companionship and reassurance about the situation, my attitude towards going to school changed. I quickly realized that not every one was as accepting as my loving older brother. I no longer had my best friend helping me with my every move. After learning that to the other kids I sounded like a "huge dummy", I felt alone and stupid in an environment where innocent children were supposed to be working together to make learning creative and fun. I was left thinking something was wrong with me. I believed myself to be a true outcast, until I met my speech pathologist, Mrs. DeGrooth. When I met Mrs. DeGrooth, my confidence at school grew positively. The way I interacted with others became something I no longer feared, but rather an adventure that I longed to be apart of every day at school. Mrs. DeGrooth helped me grow a voice and individual personality.
Mrs. DeGrooth took me into her classroom after careful observation of my first grade class and I continued to work with her straight through until the fifth grade twice a week. There had always been a little humor in the way I spoke, a train-wreck combination of a stutter, bad pronunciation, and overall slur. At first, my realization that I was being pulled from class made me nervous and uncomfortable. I now was fully aware that I spoke differently and it wasn’t going to slide with my peers, parents, or my teachers. "Oh great", first grade me thought, "she thinks I'm dumb too".
Mrs. DeGrooth took careful time to get to know me as an individual. She was the first person that I encountered in my elementary school years to take personal interest in my growth in language and as a person. She didn't think I was dumb; in fact, she treated me like a young adult. With each exercise she planned, my interest in learning and making myself better grew exponentially. I was pushed to excel in the pronunciation of the English language, an accomplishment no other first grader could ever compete with. She offered the personalization in lessons and comfort in class that I recognized immediately from home, something that I had not yet found in my first year at elementary school. Whenever I began to feel alone in class, I longed to be practicing my speech with her. She was my first true friend and continued to be a loyal mentor to me through out my elementary years. I didn't care that I was missing out on "fun" activities with the children my age. I became attached to the woman who wanted to help me learn with out judgment.
As I grew with Mrs. DeGrooth, she began introducing ideas of confidence and speech to me. Not only was my speech improving with every year that I met with her, but I was becoming older. Growing confidence in yourself at a young age in any form is one of the most important things in life. Twice a week, I visited Mrs. DeGrooth's small office to improve my speech and pronunciation. It helped me grow respect for myself as well as confidence in who I was. My speaking skills excelled and I was comfortable interacting and speaking my mind to other students. I stopped shying away from speaking up and grew to be more outgoing. She helped me understand my impediment and allowed me to view it as an obstacle to overcome rather than a barrier that stopped moving me forward. Mrs. DeGrooth's emotional guidance was one of the most important factors during my early development. If I had not received the individual interaction with Mrs. DeGrooth, I would most likely believe myself to be unintelligent and unworthy of other's time. She taught me that I have a voice worth hearing and has made me comfortable and confident when speaking and interacting with others. Mrs. DeGrooth may not realize it, but she left a positive impression on my every day life.
Tory Kern
EDC 102 H
September 10, 2014
Early Schooling Experience
Nonviolence Education
When I think back to elementary school, I have a hard time remembering the countless math and English lessons I was taught, but I do remember being trained in nonviolence by Mrs. Wildman in both 4th and 5th grade. Being exposed to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s teachings made me into the respectful human being I am today. Mrs. Wildman opened my eyes to accurate accounts of historical events told from the perspective of underrepresented groups in society. Being given the tools to maintain healthy relationships and resolve conflicts is one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given from an educator, and I have used the lessons I learned in Mrs. Wildman’s classroom ever since I was ten years old. All in all, I absorbed pertinent life lessons from my 4th and 5th grade teacher that are not only memorable but also extremely applicable in everyday life.
Through studying Kingian nonviolence, I learned from a young age that everyone deserves respect no matter what their identity is because all humans are valuable to the global community. While my class played drums and sang the same songs the freedom riders sang during the Civil Rights Movement, I could not help but feel connected to my fellow classmates and ancestors. We read numerous books about both male and female African American leaders of the civil rights movement and actually got a chance to meet one of them – the Rev. Dr. Bernard Lafayette Jr. – who talked to Dr. Martin Luther King the day he was assassinated. Dr. Lafayette gave an inspirational speech to my classmates and I about pursuing our passions no matter how many obstacles are in our way. Mrs. Wildman made me feel personally connected to the subjects I was studying, and she helped me learn the importance of loving my neighbor as myself. These important lessons were accomplished by Mrs. Wildman because she shared an enlightened view of the Civil Rights Movement with the class.
In all of my studies from K-12, I have been presented with surface-level accounts of historical events from the perspective of white males who write history textbooks. Despite our young ages, Mrs. Wildman thought it was vital for my classmates and me to be presented with truthful historical stories and trained us to debunk stereotypes and search for authenticity. I distinctly remember Mrs. Wildman telling us the tragic story of Emmett Till’s murder, a boy my brother's age at the time of this memory. This memory and story haunted me because I could not understand why white men would torture and kill an African American child, or any child, for supposedly flirting with a white woman. Emmett Till's story shocked me because it was senseless violence in the name of white supremacy, the antithesis of Mrs. Wildman's teachings. When I saw his family sobbing and wailing at his funeral, my heart ached for the countless number of families across the globe who have experienced such tragedies. Emmett’s mother courageously chose to keep the casket open at her son's funeral so others could see the brutality that her son endured in the hopes that they would take a stand against the discrimination that fueled Till’s murder. Being taught the truth about America’s history of racial discrimination sparked my interest and led to my involvement in social justice programs in high school and in college.
Learning about nonviolence in 4th and 5th grade not only made me into an advocate for social change, but it also taught me how to relate to people and be peaceful on a daily basis. One day at recess in 5th grade, some students from my class stole the kickball from rest of the students who were already playing with it and it caused a complex conflict. Inspired by the moment, Mrs. Wildman turned the conflict into a teachable moment. She told us we were going to drop what we were doing for the rest of the day and implement Dr. King’s six steps of conflict resolution that we had been studying all year. We used our knowledge of conflict resolution and applied it to the kickball situation. As a result, the class grew closer together and had the opportunity to apply our knowledge which helped us solidify the lessons we had been learning. I remember feeling incredibly empowered and useful because we had been taught the tools to achieve reconciliation and were able to apply what we learned to a real-life example. Mrs. Wildman supplemented our academic learning with interpersonal skills that aided us in all walks of life. Her lessons on nonviolence practices have clearly had a staying power with me, as I remain interested in nonviolence and peace studies.
Mrs. Wildman was such an influential 4th and 5th grade teacher that I have since returned to her classroom in different roles. First, as a sophomore in college, through the Mentoring and Tutoring Internship at URI, I volunteered in her classroom acting as a teacher's aide. This fall, I will be assisting her in nonviolence trainings of faculty and staff as an Education independent study. The nonviolence teachings that I learned as a student and am now practicing in my independent study have enriched my life by making me accepting of all types of people. Additionally, my critical thinking skills have improved as Mrs. Wildman encouraged me to be a questioner of information. Further, through the interpersonal practices that I learned as a young 4th and 5th grader, I am better able to connect with others and resolve conflicts. Mrs. Wildman and her lessons about nonviolence have resonated deeply with me, as evidenced by my continued relationship with her and further interest of nonviolence and peace studies. Now, I am Mrs. Wildman’s colleague and will always be grateful to her for opening my mind to peaceful thinking.
Ileana LaGrutta September 10, 2014 EDC 102H Academic Autobiography So I could sit here and talk about how my first math equation or the first time I wrote my name helped shape me into the person I am today. However, as I take a glimpse back into my past I’m automatically drawn to my love of sports and even more specifically, gym class. It was one rope, a few blocks, a lot of kids, and an activity named after the show “Gilligan’s Island” that has influenced me and left me with some lessons that I can take with me as I progress through life.
I’m a six year old kindergartner again in a school that, at the time, seemed like the biggest place in the entire world. We’re already pretty far into the school year when I walk into the gymnasium for yet another gym class. As I walk in I see a bunch of mats and ropes and things of that nature. We all take our seats against the wall (in alphabetical order of course) and wait for our teacher to begin explaining what all of this equipment is for. He explains that this is the gymnastics unit and, shortly after, we all get up and run to various stations. A lot of kids went to the rope climb or the rings but I wasn’t feeling that. Instead I made my way over to Gilligan’s Island. Who would have known that it was going to teach me so much not only during the five years at my elementary school, but throughout life as well.
Before I get into how wonderful Gilligan’s Island was I figure I should explain what it’s all about first. There was a mat that was raised off of the ground on one side and on the other side, maybe ten feet away, there were some blocks set up. Now these blocks were probably only five feet long and four feet wide; there really was not much room at all. The object of Gilligan’s Island was to swing from the mat to the blocks and see how many people we could fit on them. I swung to Gilligan's Island a countless number of times over the course of five years and I have to say, it is my fondest memory from elementary school. I distinctly remember one year, maybe third grade, we broke the record for the amount of kids we could get on the blocks. It was probably around twenty kids, and, believe me when I tell you, you did not want to be that kid that fell off of the blocks and ruined it for everyone else. Now I understand that this may just sound like a game and that it could have no lasting impact on anyone’s life whatsoever, but it did have an impact on mine. This game essentially taught me about working with others. Throughout life, you are going to have to work with other people whether you want to or not. It could be for a school project, it could be at your job, or, even more relevant right now, it could be working with your roommates to keep your “home” as positive a place as possible.
There is no way that you will make it through life without help from others. Even if you are the biggest introvert in the world, there will be a time where you are not going to know how to do something and you are going to need help. You could even be the most intelligent person out there, but there will be at least one problem that you will not be able to tackle on your own. This is where the idea of using someone as a resource is absolutely essential. Furthermore, it is imperative that the concept of teamwork is instilled in childrens’ heads at a very young age. Gilligan’s Island, for me, has done just this. I may be an only child but working with others has come fairly easy to me because of one activity in elementary school gym class. I took the lessons I learned from that rope and mat and transferred them to my sports teams, my school work, and most recently, college. Whether I literally or figuratively need someone to lean on, I have absolutely became a better team player because I know that I’m not making it through this life by myself. Rather, I’m going to encounter many situations where I’m going to need someone to be my Gilligan’s Island.
Rebecca Lelli
American Education Honors
8 September 2014
Description of the influence of your early schooling. What do you remember about your elementary and middle school experiences? What did you learn that has had a lasting influence? Who were your most influential teachers and/or caregivers? Why?
I feel that my early schooling, was overall a positive experience. For the most part, I went to school with the same people from kindergarten through eighth grade, which made me feel much more comfortable in some ways, but nervous in others. One downside of going to school with the same kids is if you did something embarrassing or went through a phase in one grade people were likely to make you miserable about it in years to come.) My school district was known to be fairly good for a public group of schools, and I never really experienced learning in another school district because I never moved. Luckily I was always a pretty good student, but I preferred reading,writing, and history to math, science, and technology. Even from a young age I could tell if a teacher hated his or her job or if the person had a natural gift in working with children and going above and beyond to help them succeed. With encouragement from these motivated teachers, I was able to thrive while getting my early education which created the building blocks that were essential to my later education.
I attended Richmond Elementary school from kindergarten to fourth grade, and felt very at home there. In kindergarten I had two senile old women for teachers who were mean and yelled at us for talking. They once made me so terrified that I pretended to be sick to avoid going to school. Another time during recess one of them yelled at me to stand by the wall (as a punishment) when I had no idea what I had done wrong but was too scared to ask. However, besides having teachers who hated children, I liked kindergarten. We played a lot and did more art projects than I could count. In first grade I had a teacher who was young and it was her first year teaching. We began writing and reading more, as well as doing some simple math. I handled the work fairly well. We also got to have library as one of our subjects, which helped fuel my interest in reading. About once or twice a week, the librarian would read us a book she had chosen and show us the pictures, and I was sold. I began reading on my own, not long books at first but anything that had a good looking cover I picked up and read. My competitive nature helped me that year, because I saw my best friend being praised for doing excellent work, and that made me work harder too.
In second grade I had a teacher who was a little snippy but I never had a problem with. She began teaching us multiplication tables and having us memorize our 0-12 times tables. I had a little more trouble with this, but I managed. My third grade teacher loved animals and had tortoises and a few other pets in her classroom. She got me really excited about animals, and interested in science. Once we each got a caterpillar and we watched them over a period of weeks transition from cocoon to butterfly. I loved that teacher, but she pushed us really hard and I began to get stressed out with the workload that was being piled up. In fourth grade I had one of my favorite teachers. She would read to us and draw diagrams of the setting of books on big poster boards. We would have spelling bees and I was rarely uninterested in the class. I was in a special math class in fourth grade, probably due to my poor performance in the previous year. I never thought that it was a bad thing, just that I needed a little extra help. At least until one boy started making fun of us, calling us special needs which hurt my feelings and made me question my intelligence. Was I really stupid when it came to math like he said? And while I never felt like I was good at math later on, I knew it was not stupidity that was the cause. Some things simply come naturally to people, and others require extreme effort.
Once I graduated from elementary school and moved on to middle school, things were totally different. We had to get up earlier and change classrooms when the subjects changed. In fifth grade I received a C in math and I was horrified. I knew I was better than that, so in sixth grade I still struggled but was able to keep my grade at a B. Also, in sixth grade one of my teachers decided that I was her favorite, for what reason I have no idea. But I did not like it because some of the other kids started thinking I was stuck up, so I mostly kept quiet and tried not to attract attention. In seventh grade I had four different teachers for my four main subjects who stuck with us through eighth grade. My science teacher was so incompetent at keeping the class on task and respectful of her that it frustrated me. My English teacher was a guy with a ponytail who was nice but made us write way too much. My social studies teacher reminded me of a cheerleader, always loud and bubbly, but I liked the way she taught. My math teacher was such a nice lady but I hated math which indirectly made me despise her. I could never wrap my head around the abstract concepts of Algebra 1, and I felt like I was asking way too many questions on how to do each problem. I also took chorus, which made me happy because all we did was sing. And I took home economics. The sewing part was awful, but the cooking was great. I did softball, basketball, and tennis between kindergarten and eighth grade and that was fun for me even though I was not exceptional at any of them. Finally, middle school ended but high school was only one parking lot away. Seriously, my middle school and high school were only separated by a tiny parking lot.
It may seem that I pointed out a lot of negative things, but like I said before, my early schooling was mostly a positive experience. I got good grades, most of my teachers liked me, and I made lots of lasting friendships that I still have to this day. Perhaps my retelling is mostly negative because bad experiences are recalled better than good ones simply because it is part of survival to learn from them. A few of my teachers made lasting impressions on me because they genuinely cared about me and put in extra effort to help me understand each concept. The attitude a teacher brings to their students really can be sensed by their students. I feel that if the teachers were not good at teaching or controlling a classroom, it made me not put forward one hundred percent of my effort. Those classes felt like a waste of time, but I learned a lot from my good teachers because they had the skills to keep me engaged and interested in learning about whatever they taught me. The work ethic my teachers instilled in me then has continued to help me and I am sure will help me for the rest of my life. After all, the point of school is to make a dramatic difference in how one conducts himself/herself in the future.
Do you remember that one teacher, that one from elementary school who made you realize you were special? That one that made you feel like you could be someone in the world?In my experience it was a few teachers: some from elementary school and a few from middle school. There was one in particular that really brought forth this idea, because he treated the students more like equals rather than little kids in a classroom. His name was Mr. DiPasquale and he was the Detention/Interactive American History Teacher for both 7th and 8th grade.
Mr. DiPasquale was my 8th grade History Teacher and he changed how I understood the subject and how much I enjoyed it as well. Before I had him I had enjoyed history but never wanted to go further into the subject.
My first experience with Mr. DiPasquale was not even during the year I took his class, it was during 7th grade when I got lunch detention with a couple of friends for having a raisin fight in the middle of lunch. Apparently having a good time and throwing little raisins that can’t even hurt someone is a bad thing. During the detention, while being strict, Mr. DiPasquale made you realize that even if you were having fun, someone could have gotten hurt. Though he did say this with absolutely no words, just strong and hard faces that sort of made you scared of him, but that just caused me to respect him as both an authority figure and a teacher.
When I got asked to be a part of his Living History class, as he and the students liked to call it, I was extremely happy because I thought he would never want to have me in his class due to the previous years’ experience.
Mr. DiPasquale was the best thing that could have happened for me at that moment. He made me remember my love for learning, something that hadn’t been there for a long time due to the bullying and boring teachers had during that time I wasn’t having the best time at school. Mr. DiPasquale’s class was new and interesting, he had us not only learning the material we needed; 8th grade,material, so second half of American History; he gave us a fun way of looking at it and understanding it. He had us walking on snowshoes through the back fields of Mildred E. Strang Middle School, he had us making camp like revolutionary war soldiers in Valley Forge, and yes, this was in December. One time we even took over the Home-Economics kitchen and made bison stew and hot apple cider from scratch. Mr. DiPasquale really changed my views on learning and school back to what they once had been from the hatred that had begun to grow with the bullying I faced.
The reason I love history so much now has so much to do with Mr. DiPasquale because he made me, one remember why I love to learn new things and enjoy reading as much as I do, and two because he reminded me that school is there for the students to learn their interests. One thing he did was make me want to go further in my study of history, whether it be reading about the younger years of Al Capone’s life and the British royal spy ring that was created and worked during the Second World War or taking classes that will tell me about little known things in the world that are very interesting whether they are widely known or not. Something else he did was make me realize that while I can learn really well from books that I also need to learn with a hands on approach. He was the teacher that changed my views on learning and reminded me of what I loved. I was born in New London, Connecticut in February of 1996. About a year later, my family moved to Newport, Rhode Island, for my parents work and we stayed there until 1999. At that time my parents were looking for a more residential home, so we moved once again ending up at our current home in South Kingstown, Rhode Island. In South Kingstown, my education took place at the Peace Dale Early Learning Center, Peace Dale Elementary School, Broad Rock Middle School, Curtis Corner Middle Schools, and finally, South Kingstown High School. My experiences at these schools and with the people in them have shaped me to be the person I am today.
From first through fourth grade at Peace Dale Elementary School, I was a part of a program called Kaleidoscope. Kaleidoscope enabled four teachers to work together to create a fun and interactive schooling environment for their students. In this program, there were two first and second grade mixed classes, a third grade class, and a fourth grade class. During the day, the two classes of younger students would move between their classrooms for different subjects. For example, if it were time for math lessons, all the first grade students would move into one classroom and all the second grade students into another. These two teachers would work very closely to ensure the students got the most out of their time in both classrooms.
Not only were the younger classes closely linked, but several times a week, all the Kaleidoscope teachers would set aside time for “book buddies.” During this time, each of the first and second graders would be paired up with either a third or fourth grader and they would read to each other to enhance their learning experience. Additionally, at least once a week, all four classes would gather in the school library and have a group singing time. All the students would join into the silly songs their teachers had taught them including “A Pizza Hut,” “Black Socks,” and “Out the Window.”
This program was also very interactive for the parents of the students. Parents were constantly invited into the classrooms to assist the teachers and to watch as their children progressed. For my family, that meant my mother and sister would attend my class seeing as my younger sister was not yet old enough for school when I was in first and second grade. Additionally, during the winter and spring, Kaleidoscope hosted full day events asking the parents to volunteer to lead activities. In the winter, the Kaleidoscope event would be hosted among the four Kaleidoscope classrooms and children could move from one activity to another for a day of fun. It was the same for the spring, except the event was structured as a picnic and held at a local park. The parental involvement of Kaleidoscope definitely enhanced the learning experience for me and all the other students involved.
During my years in Kaleidoscope, I made many friends, some of which moved away and most I drifted away from. Although this is true, in the years after I found that my best friend for life was in that small group of students involved in Kaleidoscope. Although we were not good friends back then, having known each other for years led me and my best friend, Kate, to reconnect in high school. There is no better way to bond with someone than over childhood memories. Having known each other so long, Kate and I are able to connect on a deeper level and give each other the support we need when the other is feeling down.
I believe that programs such as Kaleidoscope enhance the learning experience. They leave children with deeper connections and memorable experiences. If there were more programs throughout the country that were dedicated to making learning fun the way Kaleidoscope did, I believe students would take more out of their lessons and become deeper learners later in life. The keys to friendship, confidence, and determination can be taken from such experiences.With those tools in one’s metaphorical toolbox, one may achieve anything.
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From a young age, I’ve developed my own sort of mantra to get me through school. Do as much as you can, you’ll thank yourself later. Naturally, I cannot take all the credit for this mindset; in Goshen Central School District, there were options for students like me. I was fortunate enough to be able to take honors classes beginning in eighth grade. My work ethic was grounded from those advanced classes, and helped me get where I am today, academically.
My experience with being singled out started at a young age. In kindergarten, my teacher Mrs. D’Addio split the class into several reading groups. I was in a group with one other person. The two of us had a separate group because we could read at a first grade level. Looking back, I remember reading a lot with m mother before I started kindergarten which explains my ease at reading. We were in the smallest group among the class, but that meant nothing to me when I was four and a half years old. At that time, no one really understood what the division of the class meant, nor did we care. I read the books I was given obediently, not having the insight to know I was different from anyone else.
As I got older, my eyes began to open to the different types of students. I couldn’t tell the difference between deep learners or surface learners; that came much later in my school career. In third grade, I was in my first inclusion class. This means that a portion of the class was considered special education students. None had serious learning disabilities; most were nearly unidentifiable from another child’s perspective. My parents were skeptical about this type of learning environment. Would it slow down my education? Would it benefit me somehow? My parents decided that it would be a good learning experience for me to be in an untraditional classroom setting. Learning alongside of these children helped me gain knowledge outside of the standard curriculum.
In retrospect, I became a sort of mentor for the children with disabilities. I was their age, so I wasn’t intimidating to them. My teachers would often let me read to them at literacy time, which enhanced my reading skills and their listening and focus. It was a mutualistic relationship, and I enjoyed it very much. Sometimes, if the designated special education teacher—we had a regular teacher and a special education-certified teacher—was busy grading papers or working one-on-one with a student, I got to assist children with their homework or simple activities such as vocabulary sheets. The students respected me for my help and patience, and I respected them for their hard work, even when the schoolwork was challenging for them. I’m thankful I had the opportunity to work with the special education students; it was my first piece of insight regarding what I call ‘real life.’ That sounds derogatory to an educator, but the experiences to follow later in my grade school career may explain my terminology.
I’d like to take a moment to point out that I was never the smartest student. In fact, throughout my school career, I’ve engaged in plenty of debates regarding my academic standards. Many might say that because I get good grades, I am naturally smart. To clear up any confusion, I am not naturally smart; I have a respectable work ethic. This makes a difference to me, although for some people who don’t value school as highly as I do, it might seem the same. It is not easy for me to maintain high grades or to participate in honors classes, which in grade school, were truly harder. They weren’t just ‘different.’ I recall the day I took the advanced placement tests—way back in seventh grade—to determine whether I was eligible to skip eighth grade level mathematics and science. The eighty students who did become eligible, and chose to participate, went into eighth grade taking all the same classes as everyone else, with the exception of math and science, which were ninth grade levels. At the end of the year, it was mandatory for those students to take the Regents Exams for the designated classes, just as a freshman in any New York high school would. Those grades would be recorded, kept on file, and eventually sent to college senior year.
As a twelve year old, I was fortunate to understand what a huge responsibility it would be to take such classes. I was ready for the weight of the pressure to learn, to focus, and to get ahead. Selection for advanced placement was a weighted combination of grades for math and science throughout the year, scores on the examinations, and teacher recommendation. The selection process always raised grief of parents whose children didn’t get into the program, but I thought it was a fair determination. It wasn’t solely on grades, but grades were a larger fraction of it. I went into those two tests with an idea of how I would do; math was always my strongest subject and science was my weakest. I reasoned that if I got into advanced math and not science, I was still saving myself some trouble later on in school, so I should be happy with that.
To my surprise, I got two letters in the mail that June. They were both structured similarly, but one said I was invited to take advanced algebra, and the other for advanced biology. I was pleased with the recognition of my hard work, but I didn’t think I could handle being in a higher level of science considering it was always my weakest subject. My parents let me make the choice to accept of decline the invitation myself. I knew that they secretly didn’t want me to take biology because it’d put too much stress on me, and an eighth grader does not need a large quantity of stress. I promised myself that I was capable of pushing myself harder and that I should never pass down an opportunity to do so.
In the fall, I began my first accelerated classes. Algebra was a breeze and biology tested my patience for frustration, just as I expected. I spent countless days after school with my biology teacher, Ms. Muller. I researched several websites with vocabulary and videos trying to connect the chapters of the textbook together in my head. I finished the classes with quarterly grades and Regents exam grades both above ninety. I proved to myself, my teachers, and my parents that I could do it if I told myself I could and put in a little more effort. To this day, I’ve never slowed down, and I’ve never quit the honors route.
Ryan Smith
EDC102H Academic Autobiography Project
When thinking back to my days in elementary and middle school, the first memory that comes to mind is the passion I displayed for learning. From the very first day of elementary school all the way through middle school I displayed fervor for each subject I was taught. Classes weren’t spent staring out the window or texting friends, but instead were spent being engaged in the particular material. The fact that I came to school excited and ready to learn made my elementary and middle school experiences magical.
Elementary school, for myself and for several other children, is an amazing time to learn. During the elementary school years children have an uncanny ability to absorb everything they hear. Elementary school was a time where I could inform anyone with numerous animal facts, recall famous historic events, and identify different types of rocks. The range of subjects we covered was likely so large because teachers knew of our active interest. Often times I would return to my home bursting with knowledge, unable to wait to tell my parents about everything I had learned in school that day. One thing I remember in particular is the frequency at which we were assigned reports. Writing reports on even a monthly basis allowed me to be passionate about a certain subject for some period of time. Whether it was a report on Abe Lincoln, alpacas, or the town of Warren, I would have an obsession for a week. In fact, writing reports was so enjoyable for me I can remember writing a report on different types of sharks – only it was on my own time, and it was just for my satisfaction.
One particular teacher I remember from elementary school was my second grade teacher, Mrs. Reilly-Chaves. The way her class was taught was unique in the sense that she made me feel as if I were capable of anything. Most students’ writing assignments would be handed in on bland pieces of lined paper, and would never be anything more than that. However, in Mrs. Reilly-Chaves class I was presented with the opportunity to have my story published in a small (roughly 12 page) hard cover book. The fact that she went the distance to make her students feel like their work was significant said enough about her as a teacher.
Middle school was another time where I was able to have a passion that involved learning: reading. Reading became a hobby when I was only one year into my middle school experience. In particular, Greek mythology was my favorite topic to read about. I found a few series’ that involved Greek mythology and I was hooked, spending a lot more of my free time reading than doing anything else. Because reading a certain number of books per trimester was required in middle school, my hobby was only encouraged. I was always told that hard work is rewarded with success. During middle school, this idea was reinforced when students who achieved ‘high honors’ were rewarded with an ice cream party at the end of the trimester. Even though a reward like that was a nice motivator to work hard, I always worked hard in middle school for myself. I knew that at the end of the day, I would benefit if I tried my hardest in school. That alone pushed me to be the best student I could be throughout my middle school years.
Without a doubt the most memorable teacher I had during middle school was my seventh grade social studies teacher, Mr. Seger. Mr. Seger had a distinct teaching style where he would try to engage the students as much as possible. He joked around frequently during classes, but at the same time he was efficient in presenting material planned for the class. A positive classroom atmosphere was undoubtedly beneficial. Again, the fact that I looked forward to attending his class made the learning experience that much better.
Overall, in my middle school and elementary school years I learned a few essential life skills. Firstly and likely most importantly, I learned that passion is key to success. If you are excited to go to a class, you’ll likely get a lot more out of it than if you walk in with a pessimistic attitude. I also learned that all teachers are different, and depending on the teacher and their style the outcome of the class will differ. All the same, each of my teachers shaped me into the student I am today. Elementary school and Middle school are years of my life that I do not remember very well at all and am not sure how it had a very significant influence on making me the person I am today. I believe that High school was the time of my life that I changed the most and had the most influence on my study habits and behavior. There where however a few things that come to mind when I think of Elementary school memories, mostly teachers that I have faint but fond memories of.
When I was a young child the language that was spoken around my house was Polish since my father is a polish immigrant, who still today has a thick accent, and my mother’s parents were both born in Poland and she tends to speak it to my father. Polish was technically my first language which I knew fluently before I entered preschool when I was forced to change the language I use every day to English. I don’t have any memories of struggling in early grade school but I do have faint memories of being taken out of class every day by the same teacher and going to a separate room with two other classmates and learning reading skills through computer games and work books. Since I never really thought twice about this I called my mom and explained the purpose of this assignment and about the memory of reading lessons. She explained to me how I learned to speak English rather quickly however I was below average in reading and writing. For two years I was part of a special help group for those children who were having a lot of difficulty with reading. This came as a bit of a surprise to me because I remember being in the highest reading levels in middle school and going through a crazy read-aholic phase in sixth and seventh grade. I think it’s depressing that I don’t remember this teacher’s name that used to help me for years just to get on par with other students.
The other teacher who I have very fond memories of was my Band teacher Mr. Jones. I played the trumpet from 4th grade to 8th grade and the most fun i’ve had playing it was in elementary school partially because it was new and exciting to me and my teacher kept on pushing me to succeed at playing. I would have lessons at the end of certain days when other trumpet players and I would go to towards the later part of the school day and I remember it being the best part of my day where I wanted to learn how to play not because I had to but because Mr. Jones made me want to. throughout most of elementary school I do not have very many memories of him, however I do have one that I will always remember and hopefully it will help provide a picture of how amusing he really was. So most days I would spend a good part of my recess break hanging upside down from my legs on monkey bars for reasons I can’t possible imagine, however one day he noticed that I always hung upside down on them and walked up to me. He told me that if I kept on hanging upside down like that my brain would begin to ooze out of my ears. After thinking about it for a second I responded that it couldn’t possible happen. He just tilts his head and tells me “Adam, would I ever lie to you?” and that stumped me so much that I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. It was humor and an overall attitude like that that made me really enjoy being his student. Just being funny doesn’t really cut it to be a great memorable teacher but I was in 5th grade and didn’t have the attention span beyond that. schoolAmanda Ward EDC Early schooling
Up until the third grade I enjoyed school. I did not feel stressed or pressure and actually liked going to school to learn. I struggled in reading, but got extra help during half of math class to help me catch up with the majority of my peers. Then, my parents decided that they wanted me to go to a better school than my town's public school, so they sent me to a private school called Saint Mary's in Danvers. From third grade up until junior year in high school I did not truly enjoy school.
St. Mary’s transformed the way that I looked at school, but not in a positive light. Starting in third grade I started relating the feeling of stress and anxiety in to going to school. The teachers were not very fond of students who took a longer time to grasp the subject matter they were teaching. Granted, there were a select few teachers who were patient and approached learning in a less aggressive matter, but the majority of teachers were harsh. The years of third, fourth, and fifth grade are hazy but I do remember that those were the years that I truly started feeling trouble and distress towards school and learning. The opportunity to become a deep learner was lost with the stress of memorization, and I slowly became an extreme surface learner.
Surface learning continued to be the way I learned through out middle school. Seventh grade induced more stress on me in school than any other year because I had not yet learned how to deal with it. My seventh grade teacher, Mrs. Curtis, was a spiteful woman with no sympathy.Her face was very aged and her hair was shoulder length and grey; she never smiled unless it was while making fun of a student. Ever since her seventh grade class I have suffered from extreme test anxiety. She would call out students for wrong answers and embarrass them in front of the class to try and prove a point. One memory of her will always stay with me. I had asked her how to spell a word and she told me to go to the front of the class. She then put a dictionary in front of me and made the entire class watch as I struggled to find the word. When I could not find it, she placed another dictionary in front of me and told me to continue looking. Many kids in the class were laughing and thought her mockery of me was entertaining. This process continued and I had gone through six dictionaries before she called up another innocent student to look for the word. When they could not find the word either, she looked in the dictionary herself and it appeared the word was not in it. She then told me to go back to my seat and never told me how to spell the word. Incidences like these occurred both seventh and eight grade. I have hated public speaking, giving presentations, and being alone in front of large crowds ever since then.
After middle school, I was certain that I was going to a public school for high school. When I attended Danvers High School my school experience slowly started improving. It wasn’t until junior year that I truly started learning to deal with anxiety about tests and giving presentations. I had some of the best teachers my junior and senior year. I was lucky to have understanding teachers these years that would push you to do your best, get to know you personally, and always try to make you feel comfortable. Although they could not get rid of all the damage from my elementary and middle school years, they truly did help me and changed the way I approached school.
The influence of my early schooling damaged the way I approached school. Over time, my attitude and worth ethics have slowly changed for the better. I hope I can continue to improve them as I advance in school. From age one I lived in a small town called Barrington, known for its “amazing” school system it had to offer. As a child in a public school, I was never told that I was “dumb” or “stupid”, but this was the way I was always left feeling.
From an early age, I was tested. Being young and all, it felt like I was being tested nearly every day, but in reality it was once a week. I was pulled from my first grade class to be assessed on my reading proficiency; sometimes they would ask me questions after my reading and other times they would just count how many words I had read in the given time. I remember knowing that I wasn't normal for whatever reason and no one ever took the time to explain to me why they were doing so; all I knew was that I wasn't doing “good enough”.
Being tested and being aware that other students were not I began to think this made different but I was too afraid to ask. Eventually during my year in my second grade they took me out of my English class altogether. I became a part of a program where they taught us our spelling rules and we all read out loud together. But nothing about it was positive, I remember feeling secluded from my friends when I went to practice some dreadful reading exercises. From the very beginning, I was discouraged; I worked my butt off every time they sent me to my “special” class, but somehow I was meant to terminate here. But eventually I pulled through it and made it, I had a month of clear proficiency and was accepted to attend English with my friends again; of course they were required to continue to test me and make sure that I didn’t fall behind. My mom was never too concerned mainly because she thought it was my school’s way of keeping up our scores, so we could continue to be ranked one of the highest in the state. But as time went on my mom decided it wasn't just the school, in fact I was still missing something. This is when she decided to help me find other resource so I could master my reading skills and took me to a private tutor where my parents paid $80/hour for weeks upon weeks. Of course, I felt guilty that my parents were spending so much money (at that point $10 was a lot) but this was the first time I saw how important my reading was. It awed me that my mom was willing to spend that much money for me to learn how to be a better reader, because at this point I had almost accepted being a failure. I remember my tutor trying to start at the beginning with the sound that every letter made along with all the rules that went with them.
There was an improvement in my reading skills, but it wasn't what she expected to see. My mom never wanted me to feel dumb when I would cry out of frustration my mom would tell me that I’m just as smart as the other kids but it just might be more effort for me, which I never thought was fair. When my frustration became a regular occurrence, my mom thought it was time to take me to see the master of all the tests: the neuropsychologist. This the first time I was able to receive any answers. After 8 hours of testing and missing a day of school, I had become diagnosed with Dyslexia.
I felt relief. It wasn't me; it was Dyslexia. It finally wasn't me, it was the condition. I remember a weight off of my shoulder and so did all of my educators at the time.
Why is this the way the education system works? Why is it that if we don't fit in with other scores we are forced to feel incapable? No one in my schooling took the time to realize that my level of proficiency in math was through the roof, and therefore it wasn't that I was dumb. Where don’t we educate our teachers about learning differences?
Dr. Jay Fogleman
EDC 102H
12 September, 2014
Waldorfian
I am a former Waldorf student. Waldorf is a type of education created by Rudolf Steiner that is rooted in art and nature; in short, a young child's dream. My first Waldorf School, Potter Hill, used to be right down the street from URI. The building it used to be in is now inhabited by The Compass School. Sometimes, when I drive on Shermantown Road I'm transported back in time to the my first days at Potter Hill. I am suddenly five years old again and I can ‘see’ my new classroom so distinctly. When you first enter the room, there are cubby's with each student's name and symbol on them. My symbol was a tree. Perhaps it was chosen at random, but I like to think I was assigned that tree for a reason. I was destined to one day stand tall, both literally and figuratively. As the years passed, nurtured by caring teachers and a remarkable style of education, I matured into a strong and productive person. Through artistic and nature-centered instruction, my early Waldorf education taught me to be a deep learner.
I have very fond memories of those first years of school. That's when we learned about Plura Plus and Murray Minus, addition and subtraction, and also how to write in cursive. I found this foreign script to be beautiful and challenging, especially capital letters. My classroom felt like home. When I think back, it seems less like a place I went to school, and more like a place I did art projects and played with my friends. There were no standardized tests that I can remember, until about the sixth grade. No televisions, computers, or calculators were ever used. We weren't even allowed to have digital watches. We were, however, rich with creativity and imagination. We would spend what seemed like hours in the forest, making forts, climbing trees, collecting clay from the stream. I pray to never lose the connection with nature that I developed over my eight years in Waldorf. That is something for which I am eternally grateful.
I am also grateful for the sense of wonder and magic that was instilled in me at Potter Hill. There, I was raised on the belief that there were gnomes in the forest, little spirits that I had to respect. Why? Well, because the forest was their home, and I was only a visitor. I always had the feeling that I wasn't alone in the woods. Not in a scary sense, but more like I was always protected and that the spirit of the forest was watching over me. That spirit was like a combination of God and my mom; I couldn't see it, but I knew all it wanted was to make sure I was safe. That sense of openness and innocence is something I hope to revert back to. As I read in the excerpt from What the Best College Students Do by Ken Bain, I agree that rediscovering childlike curiosity fosters a passion for learning. I know that I once had this ability, and intend to retrieve it. As I grew older, the sense of wonder was harder to hold onto. It was easier to be caught up in the magic of this education system when I was a young child, and knew nothing of tests, computers, and term papers. So much of what I learned did not come with the anxiety of a looming test. This allowed for enjoyment and excitement rather than memorization and fear.
And I always knew that not every school was like mine. I had friends who went to public school, and often I felt inferior to them because I was taught in a different way. I first got a taste of public school when I visited my best friend Lucy at her school for a day. Sheffield Elementary School was a large brick building that sat neatly on a concrete lot. “Huh,” I thought, “No forest.” The differences were immediately apparent, and continued to mount as the day progressed. It was on that day that I was introduced to something called "the worksheet," which I would become all too familiar with once I reached high school. In Lucy’s gym class, we sat on the shiny wooden gymnasium floor and stacked cups. Apparently this was considered physical activity in the eyes of the Newport Public School System. What I learned from my visit was this: my school was so much more interesting.
I relocated to a new Waldorf School in the fourth grade when Potter Hill was closed. Meadowbrook Waldorf School was older than Potter Hill and had a stronger foundation, allowing for even more experiences than I had previously. Everything we did was so interesting and engaging that I never felt like I was at school. It was not lecture structured, but hands-on instead. For example, there was something called ‘Handwork’ class. Early on in Handwork we learned to finger knit, then crochet, and eventually to knit and sew. Both boys and girls had Handwork, although there were far more girls than boys in my class. We also all learned to work with wood, using knives, rasps, sandpaper, saws, etc. The things I made in those classes are some of my most precious treasures. Also dear to me are my countless work books with hand drawn illustrations and fountain pen writing, each book representing a different year and lesson learned. Unlike the cold and unfriendly binders and textbooks I currently use, I would never discard my work books. They not only contain information I learned, but also artistic renderings of particular lessons. Writing about all of the things I used to do at my two Waldorf schools brings me an overwhelming sense of yearning. I always knew Waldorf was special, but I could not see how much I have benefited from it until now.
In reflecting on my early education, I have realized that I was extremely lucky. To grow up in a learning environment that felt like a family allowed me to approach schooling with an eagerness and sense of love that not everyone experiences. Throughout those eight years I grew and flourished into a strong, capable, and yes, tall being - very much like my symbol from Kindergarten, a tree. Back then, I did not view learning as a chore, but rather as an opportunity to expand my mind. Those early years were instrumental in shaping my point of view towards education, and also the world. I learned that there is goodness everywhere and that no matter how old you are there is always more to learn. Most importantly, I learned that you are never truly alone, especially not in the forest.
Important moments, fond memories, and the most influential people you will ever meet can sometimes be found in a fourth grade classroom. A fourth grade classroom is a magical place, where the future adults of our world learn about simple machines, geography, history, and how to interact with other curious, unmolded minds. This time period is so crucial and mystifying becuase kids either dream of who they want to become, or notice who they do not want to be. I can't say I know this from a teacher's perspective and I can't say for sure if educators realize how heavy a role they play in a child's life, but I know first hand the priceless value of these early years. I learned one of my greatest life lessons in the fourth grade. Kindness and amiability are small, priceless virtues to give to the world.
In Mrs. Lee's class on the top floor of Flemming Elementary school, my class of twenty-something fourth graders were traveling all over the state of Vermont without ever leaving the classroom. Up on the board there was a map. We were split into teams of four or five for a race across the state as the miniature Ethan Allen's we were pretending to be. In order to travel the greatest distance, your team had to collect the greatest amount of buttons, either by cleaning up, listening to directions, or answering trivia about Ethan Allen correctly. I did not think much of it; I always did as I was supposed to in class. So, I went off to lunch after our geography lesson ignorant of my own self-goodness.
It was then in Flemming's cafeteria that I saw Jessica. Jessica was different. I remember meaningless physical features such as how she was obese as a fourth grader, she had short dark brown hair that was nearly black, she was slightly shorter than I was at the time, and Jessica had special needs. I also remember that Jessica was the nicest human being I had ever come across, and now looking back I believe that she still is the kindest person I've met in my lifetime. One time I missed a day of school and returned to a Get Well card from Jessica. I did not think anyone had even realized I was gone, but Jessica did. That was just the kind of person she was. Jessica wasn't bullied, not that I can recall. But that day in the lunchroom that smelled of fish sticks and floor cleaner, I saw that Jessica was sitting alone. Nobody likes to sit alone in the fourth grade, so I sat next to her. I sat next to her because Jessica was kind without bounds and for that she was beautiful. It was unbeknownst to me that I had created attention to myself and was being watched. By the time our class returned from lunch, Mrs. Lee announced to the class that I had earned ten buttons for my team toward our Ethan Allen race, and then she asked me, in front of everyone, if I had any idea why. I didn’t. She explained to the class of the lunch scenario that I had not even thought of as significant because all I did was sit with Jessica. I turned to look at Jessica only to see a giant grin of innocence and happiness on her face.
Kindness and amiability are small, priceless virtues to give to the world. I didn’t know this until the fourth grade. Jessica taught me this and I was fortunate enough to experience it for myself. Mrs. Lee taught me of its importance and taught me that small kind acts make a big difference. For this Jessica is a strong influence in my life, even though I haven't seen her in years. Mrs. Lee too is responsible for when I learned how good kindness feels. She made a big deal out of what seemed to me as nothing of importance. I’m not sure that I would have recognized that I had done a good thing if Mrs. Lee did not make me feel like I had done a good thing. And maybe without her I would not have carried that moment with me. Maybe I owe all of my future acts of kindness to Jessica and Mrs. Lee for letting me in on the secret that it feels good to make other people proud and happy.
I still think of that moment from time to time. I still think of the small things and how they affect the people around me. I think of it when I buy gifts for my family or help my parents out with chores and get good grades. I do it partly for myself but largely I do it to make them smile or to make them proud. I’m not saying I am a saint and that because of this essential moment in my life I am always kind and that I never disappoint anybody, because I do. But because of this moment I find joy in the small kind things. Not joy for the recognition I receive, but because it felt so darn good to make Mrs. Lee proud and to know I made Jessica smile. This is what the fourth grade taught me.
An Early Childhood Influence:
By Sara Buckley
Most children are quite fond of their years in elementary school. Elementary students are not faced with the pressures of fitting in, test scores, obscene amounts of homework, and other stresses of being older. These young children wake up every morning bright and early because they are excited to learn and actually enjoy attending to school. This natural enthusiasm is a wonderful thing and it is such a shame to see it deteriorate with age.
Just as most other elementary students, I woke up each morning for school “bright eyed and bushy tailed”. I was avid and ready to learn. Every year, this pattern continued. I loved learning new things and going to school was exciting!
Sadly, this all changed once I became a fourth grader. The first day began just as any other. I was eager and ready to begin the new school year. I had Mrs. Santore who was a teacher that my two older siblings both had and loved. I could not wait to start classes and see what this year had to offer!
However, this all began to change. As the year transcended, I started struggling with the new amount of work that the fourth grade had to offer. School became a chore. I lagged getting on the bus each morning and the perpetual smile left my face. Mrs. Santore was not as fun loving as when my siblings were her students. She publicly criticized me when I struggled with a subject, began comparing me to my siblings, and surrounding me with negativity. Each day, I would come home confused and wondered why school became such a hassle.
After completing the fourth grade, I was not ecstatic to begin the fifth. However, I came in on the first day and my teacher was wonderful! She was excited to have me and treated me exactly like all of my other peers. Ms. McLaughlin made me feel as though I belonged in my class. Her positive attitude and friendly approach allowed me to flourish in her classroom. I actually became one of her “star pupils” and she eventually recommended me for advanced classes for the sixth grade. Ms. McLaughlin completely changed my elementary experience and I am forever thankful. She is one of my primary influences to become an Elementary Education major here at the University of Rhode Island.
The elementary experience is all about making learning enjoyable and fun. There are no unnecessary stresses of being an elementary student, which is one of the things I admire most about it. Their teachers create a loving and positive environment for them to learn and thrive. However, when a educator does not exhibit these qualities, it can cause a student to fall behind and become disinterested in the subject. If teachers can achieve this, then learning and education can continue to be a positive and fun part of people’s lives, no matter how old you are.
Early education is a very interesting concept to me, and helping kids learn comes somewhat naturally to me. My school, aside from the preschool I went to, started in kindergarten and ended in fourth grade. My experience is probably a bit different from most other kids, who worry about leaving their parents behind for a whole day. Really, this is a monumental step in a child’s life. I missed this step a little bit. You see, I never really left my mom at all in those 5 years. It was a huge comfort for my brother, who is the grade above me, and me to know that if we ever had a problem, mommy was right down the hall teaching the art classes. Plus, as a bonus, we got to take a class taught by her once every week! I love the idea of education. I think that enriching a child’s mind is so rewarding. For my whole childhood, I got to watch as my mom helped kids grow and develop. I found it fascinating how a child’s mind worked when they were handed a pencil and a paper, especially at such an impressionable age. My early childhood education influenced me quite a bit, probably much more than the average kid, and I have my mother to thank for that. I learned, in the halls of my elementary school, in the chairs of my mother’s classroom, that I wanted to be a teacher too, and that has been the greatest gift of all.
Having the art teacher as your mom was a pretty awesome thing in elementary school, because who doesn't love art?! It didn't hurt that everyone loved my mom as well. From an extremely early age, I was shown the “behind the scenes” of teaching. I knew my teachers both in school and out of school, which was both a blessing and a curse. I got unlimited coloring supplies, and what kind of seven year old doesn't love unlimited arts and crafts?! During class I got to help out all of my classmates and teach them how to do projects, since I already knew what they were. I suppose that is another reason I decided to become a teacher. I learned hands on that I loved teaching other kids what I knew, and I was good at it!
There were definitely perks of having a mom as the art teacher. First off, everyone thought my mom was so cool. I got to hang up artwork for the art shows with my friends and other teachers, go out to dinner with my teachers, be friends with their kids, and not to mention hang out in the teachers lounge! For an elementary school kid, i had it made. I was a crazy kid with so much energy, and knowing every adult in the school was definitely fun, especially because i was never bored.
I also helped to tutor kids in my classes who weren't understanding the curriculum and i loved the breakthrough moments with kids when they finally understand what you're teaching. i kept my tutoring going throughout the rest of my school career, whether it was tutoring kids my age or younger (I hope to help with something like that at URI as well). I was lucky i was given those experiences and my close connection with all my teachers, especially in my early education years.
When you’re young, you repeat what you hear, you put things in your mouth that you shouldn’t, but you also learn and retain more than you could ever imagine. I like that concept. At this age, it is up to the teachers, the child, their parents, and a bit of fate how the child turns out. In most cases, the parent only sees so much, and then it is up to the teacher to discipline the rest of the time. I’m studying to be an English major, but let’s do some math… 13 years of schooling, 180 days in a school year, 7 hours a day. 13 X 180 X 7 = 16,380 hours of school in your lifetime. That is close to 683 straight days of being in a classroom. When you’re in these grades, your mind is still growing, and your teachers are the ones who make sure that you are on the right path in these 16,380 hours. I was lucky. I got watched over constantly and my mother was always in cahoots with all of the other adults in the building. This was good for me in the long run, because i was always caught with antics but i always learned from them as well.
In my case, my mom was there more than usual but not all of the time, and i still learned how to be independent. In my opinion, school is important. It is the test that a child goes through before they hit “the real world”. I’m in college now, and it is strange to think that my mom isn’t another room away, but rather a phone call. I can function perfectly fine in this setting, because my childhood years and my young adult years set me up for that, my childhood education set me up for this.
School has always been something that I have really enjoyed, both mentally and socially. i love the diversity that my school brought into our classrooms and i find it fascinating how there are so many ways to learn and so many different ways to learn them. My school, although it was in a suburban down, bused in inner-city children for classes each morning. I got to meet people who lived differently than i did, and it really opened up my eyes. School has always been something i have been passionate about. Personally, i think that i just got lucky most of the time with all of my amazing teachers, but even from the not-so-great ones, my dreams to be a teacher never faltered. Elementary school is where most of my dreams started, and with the help of my amazing teachers, my wonderful mother and my try-hard ethic, came my love for not only being a deep learner, but also to be a teacher.
Like I said, my childhood educational career was unique, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. If I went to any other elementary school, or didn’t have my mom by my side, I don’t think I would be where I am today. I am so thankful for the opportunities I have been given. Although I am not studying early childhood education, but rather secondary education, I still feel like my mom and all of the teachers that I have formed bonds with along the way, helped to push me on that path, and I am so grateful.
Meagan Coon
Academic Autobiography- Early Years
I grew up in a small agriculturally based town in western Massachusetts. One most people probably have never heard of in their life and probably never will. Southwick, Massachusetts has a total population of about 10,000 which is less than the student population here at URI. it was a small town it definitely left its mark on me growing up and I am very grateful for all of the experiences I had there.
Southwick is known as a good town and good community to raise a family; the only thing it lacked was a good school system. The past few years it has been struggling with construction, updating the buildings, and curriculum with fear of losing accreditation. Without accreditation there would no longer be any tax money to support the district. The school system has one elementary, one middle and one high school that is regionalized between three towns. Everyone from the area went through these schools unless their parents shipped them out to private school or they were transferred because they were exceptionally good at sports. Southwick is also a town full of senior citizen housing and people who do not want to put their tax dollars towards a new school. They claim "It was fine when I went there" which was back in the 1970's. The education I received from Southwick's school district was not anything special, but it was enough to get me into many good colleges.
I spent kindergarten through the 4th grade at Woodland Elementary school. I made many friends there who I have remained friends with because we went through the rest of grade school and high school together. There were not many influential teachers that I can remember and I can barely remember their names. Despite this, one memory I remember clearly is the special Education program that I took part in. I personally did not need any kind of special education. An important part of my school was integrating the children who did with the rest of the students. Southwick is a town where there is very little exposure to diversity or really anyone different from ourselves, so Woodland made it a priority to change that.
The program I took part in was a few days week during my lunch period. I remember absolutely hating it at first. I did not want to spend the time away from my friends or from the cafeteria. I did not want to be singled out in front of the classroom to eat lunch with the "different kids" My first grade teacher, Mrs. Kline, referred to it as "friendship group"but we all knew thats not what it was about. Every day a different student who was volunteered by his or her parents would be pulled aside into the special education room. We would have to eat our lunch,and play some games and make conversation with the kids who spent their days there. In the first grade this idea was horrifying. Not by choice I went along with it anyway, and I am honestly glad I did. This program is probably one of the few things that The Southwick School district got right. From a very young age I learned how wrong and unfair it is to treat those with special needs differently. I learned how wrong it is to make fun of someone who is unlike you, who is different or who has disabilities. This is something most kids do not realize at a young age and many still do not know.
One thing that has stuck with me ever since the first grade is a friend named Kyle. I met him in these programs and he has definitely had an influence on my life. I could not tell you exactly what kind of special needs problems Kyle has but it is clear when you speak with him he is developmentally delayed. This delay is definitely made up for in other areas of his mind, like his memory. I went through the next 12 years of school with Kyle and I have never met someone more happy to see me. He amazingly always remembered my name, birthday and occasionally a conversation that we had back in the first grade lunch block. Even though back at the beginning I regretted giving up my lunch blocks and saw no point in those programs I definitely do now and I am very grateful for it.
Ally Corey
Prof Fogleman
EDC102H
10 September 2014
Academic Autobiography Entry 1
While journeying through school there are always going to be people who influence you. It could be in a positive way or in a negative way. Especially in your elementary years, a teacher could encourage or discourage you and it may affect your outlook on school forever. For me, I was influenced by many of my teachers throughout my educational career. One in particular that seriously benefitted me was my third and fourth grade teacher Mrs. Hunt. Our class looped which means that I had she same teacher and classmates for two years. Looping with an exceptional teacher as Mrs. Hunt was a transformational experience for me.
For my first three years of schooling (kindergarten, first, and second grade) I went to a private catholic school. Third grade was the first year for a big change for me. I was going to a new school, a public school that was closer to my house where I didn’t know any people. It was intimidating especially for a shy, timid girl that got red in the face whenever asked to speak. Public school was of course surrounded with rumors and how it would be much different than the catholic school I started in. Of course it was different but not in a negative way whatsoever.
Third grade is the first year where the school work shifts. Students begin reading more dense books and writing paragraphs as well as starting multiplication and division. Luckily
I had the benefit of being in Mrs. Hunt’s third grade class. Mrs. Hunt was one of the best teachers in our school. At the time I didn't know how extremely lucky that I got. She was always encouraging all of us students to try our best and to never give up when the course material got tough. In both third and fourth grade, the lessons we were learning were becoming more difficult. I definitely had trouble understanding what I was learning in the beginning of third grade.
I remember one specific time she was very helpful when I was struggling with reading. We were all put into reading groups based on our reading skill. I was placed in a higher level reading group due to my success in the Catholic school but it was a struggle for me. The other students naturally read very quickly, more quickly than the caliber that I was at. I would get frustrated easily when the other students in my group would finish the pages assigned to read before me. It was easy for me to just mentally check out of reading time because I automatically assumed that I wasn't as good as everyone else. Mrs. Hunt started to notice that I wasn't contributing much to reading group time so one day after class she had asked me to stay after and we could talk about what was going on. Of course I was so nervous and timid to talk to this woman who was bursting with enthusiasm and personality. But after talking to her she encouraged me to continue to try my best during reading group and that giving up just because it's the easy way out is not the most beneficial. She told me that reading is a wonderful hobby and that I should give it a second chance. After our little talk I decided that starting in my next reading group time that I was going to ultimately give reading my best effort. Throughout the next few weeks reading group got much better. I started to pay more attention and my love for reading grew. Mrs. Hunt taught me the valuable lesson that when the going gets tough just keep trying. Reading, something that I dreaded doing blossomed into something that I thoroughly enjoy. To this day I am thankful for Mrs. Hunt’s encouragement because reading is something that brings me happiness.
Mrs. Hunt was also my fourth grade teacher as well. My whole third grade class “looped”. We were all in third and fourth grade together. It was such a beneficial opportunity because the course work in fourth grade obviously gets more difficult. Therefore I was able to be more successful by being in my same class as the year before. This experience definitely boosted my confidence and self esteem. Being in a classroom where you knew all of your peers and teacher was very comforting. Fourth grade was one of my most successful years because I was surrounded by familiarity. Mrs. Hunt knew how all of us students worked best and therefore was able to provide us with the best techniques in teaching us the more difficult material of fourth grade. That year I transformed from being very timid to being more outgoing. I wasn't as nervous to express how I felt because I was in a classroom where every face was familiar to me. I would absolutely recommend this in other elementary school settings because it did give me the confidence in myself that I can be successful in my education and that is all thanks to Mrs. Hunt.
My third and fourth grade years were very influential to how the rest of my education played out and is continuing to play out. Thanks to Mrs. Hunt I am grateful for her pushing me to appreciate the love of reading. Also I am thankful I had her for two years in a row with my same classmates because it made me into the more confident girl that I am today. Those two years showed me that I could be whatever type of student that I wanted to be. I decided at such a young age that I wanted to be the student who worked hard and never gave up on my schoolwork. For example just this past semester I was in a literature class that I struggled in. Because of Mrs. Hunt's lessons she gave me the incentive to go to my professor's office hours for extra help. Just like in reading group how I was struggling, I spoke to my professor and she helped me through the class. I'm glad that I had enough confidence to go for extra help, if I never had Mrs. Hunt I'm not sure if I would have went the extra mile in that class. The values Mrs. Hunt gave me in the third and fourth grade still impact my education to this day.
My early childhood education was an amazing experience and one that I wouldn't change for the world. I had wonderful role models who introduced me to new experiences and new things. They helped me understand how I thrive on familiarity and allowed me to grow and discover my interests. One of those interests is teaching. While my early schooling was filled with amazing experiences, it also served a deeper purpose: to inspire a love of teaching and the desire pass on those same opportunities for a whole new set of students.
Looking back at my early schooling, my clearest memory was actually my very first day of preschool. I attended Barrington Early Childhood Center (BECC), a private preschool in my town. I had never experienced anything quite like it, and I absolutely hated it. This was my first experience away from my parents; I had never been a daycare child or ever even had a babysitter. I had no intentions of letting my mother leave my side, as I clung to her for dear life. My teacher, Mrs. Wolfe, eventually had to pry me off of her as I screamed and cried, desperate for my mother’s arms.
It was at that moment that another new student, just like myself, approached me while I was still crying in my teacher’s arms. Her name was Sarah. That day, Sarah became my best friend. At that young age, developing social skills is crucial. When Sarah approached me to invite me to play, I felt much more comfortable and excited to be there. She was my first friend that I made on my own, and I was proud to call her my best friend. From that day on, it was smooth sailing. My preschool became my favorite place and I never wanted to leave. I made new friends, played outside, and brought home dozens of art projects (which my mother still keeps to this day).
The next year, before departing BECC, we had a classic “What I Want to be When I Grow Up” assignment. Our job as 4-year-olds was to draw a picture, and have our parents help us write out a few words. There were dozens of astronauts, doctors, firefighters, presidents, and even a few princesses. But not me. I drew a wonderful picture of a tall girl with brown hair, in a purple dress (future me). Beneath me, stood around ten other little stick figures (my future class of preschoolers). The rest of the page was decorated with pictures of toys and surrounded by bright, happy colors. The title of my masterpiece: “When I grow up, I want to be… A Preschool Teacher at BECC! “ From day one, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life: I wanted to be a teacher.
Mrs. Wolfe was touched by my assignment. As the year was ending, , she asked my mother if she could keep the one assignment and display it in the preschool. My mother eagerly agreed and Mrs. Wolfe hung my newly framed picture on her office door for all to see. I remember feeling so proud. Our artwork had plastered the classroom walls before, but this was special. This was just me, and my work being appreciated. My artwork being so proudly displayed on the door for everyone to see filled me with a great sense of pride. I had not been so thoroughly appreciated before. Looking back, this was the first experience where I saw the power and influence of a teacher in their students lives.
Throughout my early schooling experience, I was fortunate enough to live in a top-ranking school district, filled with amazing teachers. Similar to Mrs. Wolfe, my early elementary teachers were kind and nurturing. I explicitly remember Mrs. Spaight, my second and third grade teacher at Nayatt School. She was the first teacher that I grew a deeper connection with. She was more than a teacher- she was an inspiration. I strived to be more like Mrs. Spaight. I would always volunteer to hand out papers and collect things from the class. If she ever had to leave the room, even just for a moment, she would put me in charge. I never had to do anything, but just the concept of authority got me easily excited. I knew then that I definitely wanted to run my own classroom one day.
In contrast to the normal school sequence that most students experienced, I had a different path through elementary school. As early as first grade, I had the opportunity to be in a Multi Aged Classroom (MAC), where grades one, two, and three coexisted. The student-to-teacher ratio was typical, as there were three teachers for each different grade. I loved watching the third graders, I aspired to be just like them. I could not wait to be one of the older kids helping out the little first graders. I wanted to be the best role model I could be for them. I remember being in third grade, helping a first grader with a basic addition worksheet- I was a pro at this point, and them seeking my help made me feel great. Being able to help really boosted my self-esteem, and fueled my desire to teach others my skills.
Another common trend seen in my early schooling was the repetition of teachers. My favorite part of the MAC was being in the same classroom with the same students and teachers for three years. Each successive year, it took away the stress of meeting new teachers and making new friends. I am not too great at acclimating to new environments, and this relieved all that anxiety. Personally, I do not have strong social skills. I have no problem talking to people who approach me, but my weakness lies in approaching others on my own. Being amongst people I already was acquainted with made my life a lot easier in school. I was able to focus more on school and less on working to be social. Seeing the strong positive effect of the MAC on my learning and social skills motivates me to one day help those students with the same struggles that I faced.
In middle school, I was placed into a program of the same idea, called a loop. Each grade at Barrington Middle School was divided into three clusters. Each cluster was made up of four teachers- one with a specialty in each of the core subjects: math, science, English, and social studies. In seventh and eighth grade, I was a part of Red Cluster. I had all the same teachers both years, and connections grew stronger as with the time spent. By the end of eighth grade, my teachers knew exactly how to help me learn based on my own personal learning styles. They showed me that I was a visual learner, allowing me to better my learning as I moved through high school and now into college. Through my teachers fostering this connection with me, it showed me the power of a student-teacher connection and inspired me to one day do the same for my students
My early childhood educational experiences demonstrated to me a few things about myself. I thrive on familiarity, and have been blessed with wonderful teachers who provided me with a great foundation for my education. Many of my early education teachers were inspirational in developing my desire to be a teacher. I would not change a thing about my early educational experiences. I want to provide the same experiences to my students and help them grow and realize who they are and allow them to be all they can be.
As we get older, it becomes more difficult to remember experiences that we had when we were younger. I know for myself, there isn’t much I can specifically remember from my early schooling days. However, there are general concepts that I do remember. Each individual has a different experience as they go through school and receive an education. For the most part, elementary years are the building blocks for being a successful student. As you move on to grade school, you begin to learn easy concepts of math, science, English, social studies etc. In middle school, you find your circle of friends and have an open mind about finding your niche. The experiences we have throughout these early years have an influence on the person we become.
I don’t remember much from elementary school. I do remember my first day of kindergarten, though. My mother put me on the bus in the morning and she forgot to give me my lunch bag as she had it over her shoulder. Before the bus pulled away from the stop, I cried and cried, banging on the window until she finally realized. What a great way to start off. I remember having naptime and having guest readers come into the class every so often. First grade was a rough year for me. My mother underwent brain surgery and I was too young to really understand. My emotions were running wild and the tears and fits never seemed to stop. Thankfully, I was lucky enough to have an amazing teacher that year. Her name was Mrs. Sorgie. She was the most compassionate, kindhearted, trustful woman I knew. I wouldn’t have gotten through that tough time if it weren’t for her. To this day, we keep in touch and speak every so often. She is someone I would like to keep in my life for a very long time.
Fourth grade was one of my favorite years. During the summer, I found out that I was placed in an inclusion class. Being that I was only ten years old, I didn’t know what that meant. I can remember my parents being angry about my placement. I didn’t understand why. They told me it was because I would be too focused on helping the slower learning students, that I wouldn’t focus on myself. Ironically, my best friend was placed in that same class. So then it was a done deal, I stayed in the class. That year, I had another wonderful teacher. She was definitely one of my favorites. Mrs. LaMountain was awesome. She was a great teacher but an even better person. She had such a big heart and she gave every student the attention that they needed. She was more of a friend to me rather than a teacher. We created a very special relationship. We too, keep in touch and talk every so often.
Middle school was a rebellious few years for me. I was so obsessed with the idea of being in middle school and having more freedom. Sixth grade I met my group of friends and my absolute best friends. Those relationships are still just as strong today. I also began “dating” a boy in sixth grade. It was a very unhealthy relationship that lasted way too long, but definitely helped me realize a lot about myself. I remember that I always wanted to go out on the weekends and I always wanted a later curfew. I struggled hard in classes that year because I was so into being “popular.” In seventh grade I began taking honors classes. It was then when I realized I was actually pretty bright when I set my mind to doing things. It was also seventh grade when I realized that math and science were not my strong points. I remember begging my parents for tutors because I was getting below average in those classes and that was not an option for me. Eighth grade, I buckled down knowing that my grades would transfer to high school. I took my first regents tests that year. That was the year I realized I’m a terrible test taker and that I shouldn’t always base my intelligence off my test grades. For superlatives, I won “best communicator.” My leadership skills paid off and teachers noticed my eagerness to help others and speak up. In middle school I didn’t really have a teacher who was very influential. It’s different being in their class only forty minutes a day compared to being with them for seven hours a day.
My early schooling prepared me for the next steps in life. I learned which subjects were my strongest and which ones were my weakest. I discovered the subjects that interested me and the ones I had no interest in. I also learned that I’m a visual learner. By the time high school came around, I was fully prepared and ready for any obstacle that came my way.
Before entering elementary school, I had created a strong bond with my older brother and my neighbors who, much to my luck, were older as well. Every day when they rode the bus home from school, I would be there at the stop waiting patiently for them, my head filled with curiosity. My brother was my best friend and I couldn’t help but want to spend every moment with the older boy who had experienced so much more than I had. Every weekend we goofed around and teased each other, becoming closer and more comfortable with who we were. Eventually, my time was approaching to enter the first grade. It was an exciting new venture, but sure enough, filled with fear and anxiety. He told me school rocked! He had so many friends and they all played tag on the playground. Boy, did he give me false hope. School quickly became a nightmare for me. I entered the school like a wrecking ball; I had no reason to be self-conscious or even question simple facts about who I was by that point. I lacked the cute, curious, mousy voice all first graders had. Without my older brother’s companionship and reassurance about the situation, my attitude towards going to school changed. I quickly realized that not every one was as accepting as my loving older brother. I no longer had my best friend helping me with my every move. After learning that to the other kids I sounded like a "huge dummy", I felt alone and stupid in an environment where innocent children were supposed to be working together to make learning creative and fun. I was left thinking something was wrong with me. I believed myself to be a true outcast, until I met my speech pathologist, Mrs. DeGrooth. When I met Mrs. DeGrooth, my confidence at school grew positively. The way I interacted with others became something I no longer feared, but rather an adventure that I longed to be apart of every day at school. Mrs. DeGrooth helped me grow a voice and individual personality.
Mrs. DeGrooth took me into her classroom after careful observation of my first grade class and I continued to work with her straight through until the fifth grade twice a week. There had always been a little humor in the way I spoke, a train-wreck combination of a stutter, bad pronunciation, and overall slur. At first, my realization that I was being pulled from class made me nervous and uncomfortable. I now was fully aware that I spoke differently and it wasn’t going to slide with my peers, parents, or my teachers. "Oh great", first grade me thought, "she thinks I'm dumb too".
Mrs. DeGrooth took careful time to get to know me as an individual. She was the first person that I encountered in my elementary school years to take personal interest in my growth in language and as a person. She didn't think I was dumb; in fact, she treated me like a young adult. With each exercise she planned, my interest in learning and making myself better grew exponentially. I was pushed to excel in the pronunciation of the English language, an accomplishment no other first grader could ever compete with. She offered the personalization in lessons and comfort in class that I recognized immediately from home, something that I had not yet found in my first year at elementary school. Whenever I began to feel alone in class, I longed to be practicing my speech with her. She was my first true friend and continued to be a loyal mentor to me through out my elementary years. I didn't care that I was missing out on "fun" activities with the children my age. I became attached to the woman who wanted to help me learn with out judgment.
As I grew with Mrs. DeGrooth, she began introducing ideas of confidence and speech to me. Not only was my speech improving with every year that I met with her, but I was becoming older. Growing confidence in yourself at a young age in any form is one of the most important things in life. Twice a week, I visited Mrs. DeGrooth's small office to improve my speech and pronunciation. It helped me grow respect for myself as well as confidence in who I was. My speaking skills excelled and I was comfortable interacting and speaking my mind to other students. I stopped shying away from speaking up and grew to be more outgoing. She helped me understand my impediment and allowed me to view it as an obstacle to overcome rather than a barrier that stopped moving me forward. Mrs. DeGrooth's emotional guidance was one of the most important factors during my early development. If I had not received the individual interaction with Mrs. DeGrooth, I would most likely believe myself to be unintelligent and unworthy of other's time. She taught me that I have a voice worth hearing and has made me comfortable and confident when speaking and interacting with others. Mrs. DeGrooth may not realize it, but she left a positive impression on my every day life.
Tory Kern
EDC 102 H
September 10, 2014
Early Schooling Experience
Nonviolence EducationWhen I think back to elementary school, I have a hard time remembering the countless math and English lessons I was taught, but I do remember being trained in nonviolence by Mrs. Wildman in both 4th and 5th grade. Being exposed to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s teachings made me into the respectful human being I am today. Mrs. Wildman opened my eyes to accurate accounts of historical events told from the perspective of underrepresented groups in society. Being given the tools to maintain healthy relationships and resolve conflicts is one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given from an educator, and I have used the lessons I learned in Mrs. Wildman’s classroom ever since I was ten years old. All in all, I absorbed pertinent life lessons from my 4th and 5th grade teacher that are not only memorable but also extremely applicable in everyday life.
Through studying Kingian nonviolence, I learned from a young age that everyone deserves respect no matter what their identity is because all humans are valuable to the global community. While my class played drums and sang the same songs the freedom riders sang during the Civil Rights Movement, I could not help but feel connected to my fellow classmates and ancestors. We read numerous books about both male and female African American leaders of the civil rights movement and actually got a chance to meet one of them – the Rev. Dr. Bernard Lafayette Jr. – who talked to Dr. Martin Luther King the day he was assassinated. Dr. Lafayette gave an inspirational speech to my classmates and I about pursuing our passions no matter how many obstacles are in our way. Mrs. Wildman made me feel personally connected to the subjects I was studying, and she helped me learn the importance of loving my neighbor as myself. These important lessons were accomplished by Mrs. Wildman because she shared an enlightened view of the Civil Rights Movement with the class.
In all of my studies from K-12, I have been presented with surface-level accounts of historical events from the perspective of white males who write history textbooks. Despite our young ages, Mrs. Wildman thought it was vital for my classmates and me to be presented with truthful historical stories and trained us to debunk stereotypes and search for authenticity. I distinctly remember Mrs. Wildman telling us the tragic story of Emmett Till’s murder, a boy my brother's age at the time of this memory. This memory and story haunted me because I could not understand why white men would torture and kill an African American child, or any child, for supposedly flirting with a white woman. Emmett Till's story shocked me because it was senseless violence in the name of white supremacy, the antithesis of Mrs. Wildman's teachings. When I saw his family sobbing and wailing at his funeral, my heart ached for the countless number of families across the globe who have experienced such tragedies. Emmett’s mother courageously chose to keep the casket open at her son's funeral so others could see the brutality that her son endured in the hopes that they would take a stand against the discrimination that fueled Till’s murder. Being taught the truth about America’s history of racial discrimination sparked my interest and led to my involvement in social justice programs in high school and in college.
Learning about nonviolence in 4th and 5th grade not only made me into an advocate for social change, but it also taught me how to relate to people and be peaceful on a daily basis. One day at recess in 5th grade, some students from my class stole the kickball from rest of the students who were already playing with it and it caused a complex conflict. Inspired by the moment, Mrs. Wildman turned the conflict into a teachable moment. She told us we were going to drop what we were doing for the rest of the day and implement Dr. King’s six steps of conflict resolution that we had been studying all year. We used our knowledge of conflict resolution and applied it to the kickball situation. As a result, the class grew closer together and had the opportunity to apply our knowledge which helped us solidify the lessons we had been learning. I remember feeling incredibly empowered and useful because we had been taught the tools to achieve reconciliation and were able to apply what we learned to a real-life example. Mrs. Wildman supplemented our academic learning with interpersonal skills that aided us in all walks of life. Her lessons on nonviolence practices have clearly had a staying power with me, as I remain interested in nonviolence and peace studies.
Mrs. Wildman was such an influential 4th and 5th grade teacher that I have since returned to her classroom in different roles. First, as a sophomore in college, through the Mentoring and Tutoring Internship at URI, I volunteered in her classroom acting as a teacher's aide. This fall, I will be assisting her in nonviolence trainings of faculty and staff as an Education independent study. The nonviolence teachings that I learned as a student and am now practicing in my independent study have enriched my life by making me accepting of all types of people. Additionally, my critical thinking skills have improved as Mrs. Wildman encouraged me to be a questioner of information. Further, through the interpersonal practices that I learned as a young 4th and 5th grader, I am better able to connect with others and resolve conflicts. Mrs. Wildman and her lessons about nonviolence have resonated deeply with me, as evidenced by my continued relationship with her and further interest of nonviolence and peace studies. Now, I am Mrs. Wildman’s colleague and will always be grateful to her for opening my mind to peaceful thinking.
Ileana LaGrutta
September 10, 2014
EDC 102H
Academic Autobiography
So I could sit here and talk about how my first math equation or the first time I wrote my name helped shape me into the person I am today. However, as I take a glimpse back into my past I’m automatically drawn to my love of sports and even more specifically, gym class. It was one rope, a few blocks, a lot of kids, and an activity named after the show “Gilligan’s Island” that has influenced me and left me with some lessons that I can take with me as I progress through life.
I’m a six year old kindergartner again in a school that, at the time, seemed like the biggest place in the entire world. We’re already pretty far into the school year when I walk into the gymnasium for yet another gym class. As I walk in I see a bunch of mats and ropes and things of that nature. We all take our seats against the wall (in alphabetical order of course) and wait for our teacher to begin explaining what all of this equipment is for. He explains that this is the gymnastics unit and, shortly after, we all get up and run to various stations. A lot of kids went to the rope climb or the rings but I wasn’t feeling that. Instead I made my way over to Gilligan’s Island. Who would have known that it was going to teach me so much not only during the five years at my elementary school, but throughout life as well.
Before I get into how wonderful Gilligan’s Island was I figure I should explain what it’s all about first. There was a mat that was raised off of the ground on one side and on the other side, maybe ten feet away, there were some blocks set up. Now these blocks were probably only five feet long and four feet wide; there really was not much room at all. The object of Gilligan’s Island was to swing from the mat to the blocks and see how many people we could fit on them. I swung to Gilligan's Island a countless number of times over the course of five years and I have to say, it is my fondest memory from elementary school. I distinctly remember one year, maybe third grade, we broke the record for the amount of kids we could get on the blocks. It was probably around twenty kids, and, believe me when I tell you, you did not want to be that kid that fell off of the blocks and ruined it for everyone else. Now I understand that this may just sound like a game and that it could have no lasting impact on anyone’s life whatsoever, but it did have an impact on mine. This game essentially taught me about working with others. Throughout life, you are going to have to work with other people whether you want to or not. It could be for a school project, it could be at your job, or, even more relevant right now, it could be working with your roommates to keep your “home” as positive a place as possible.
There is no way that you will make it through life without help from others. Even if you are the biggest introvert in the world, there will be a time where you are not going to know how to do something and you are going to need help. You could even be the most intelligent person out there, but there will be at least one problem that you will not be able to tackle on your own. This is where the idea of using someone as a resource is absolutely essential. Furthermore, it is imperative that the concept of teamwork is instilled in childrens’ heads at a very young age. Gilligan’s Island, for me, has done just this. I may be an only child but working with others has come fairly easy to me because of one activity in elementary school gym class. I took the lessons I learned from that rope and mat and transferred them to my sports teams, my school work, and most recently, college. Whether I literally or figuratively need someone to lean on, I have absolutely became a better team player because I know that I’m not making it through this life by myself. Rather, I’m going to encounter many situations where I’m going to need someone to be my Gilligan’s Island.
Rebecca Lelli
American Education Honors
8 September 2014
Description of the influence of your early schooling. What do you remember about your elementary and middle school experiences? What did you learn that has had a lasting influence? Who were your most influential teachers and/or caregivers? Why?
I feel that my early schooling, was overall a positive experience. For the most part, I went to school with the same people from kindergarten through eighth grade, which made me feel much more comfortable in some ways, but nervous in others. One downside of going to school with the same kids is if you did something embarrassing or went through a phase in one grade people were likely to make you miserable about it in years to come.) My school district was known to be fairly good for a public group of schools, and I never really experienced learning in another school district because I never moved. Luckily I was always a pretty good student, but I preferred reading,writing, and history to math, science, and technology. Even from a young age I could tell if a teacher hated his or her job or if the person had a natural gift in working with children and going above and beyond to help them succeed. With encouragement from these motivated teachers, I was able to thrive while getting my early education which created the building blocks that were essential to my later education.
I attended Richmond Elementary school from kindergarten to fourth grade, and felt very at home there. In kindergarten I had two senile old women for teachers who were mean and yelled at us for talking. They once made me so terrified that I pretended to be sick to avoid going to school. Another time during recess one of them yelled at me to stand by the wall (as a punishment) when I had no idea what I had done wrong but was too scared to ask. However, besides having teachers who hated children, I liked kindergarten. We played a lot and did more art projects than I could count. In first grade I had a teacher who was young and it was her first year teaching. We began writing and reading more, as well as doing some simple math. I handled the work fairly well. We also got to have library as one of our subjects, which helped fuel my interest in reading. About once or twice a week, the librarian would read us a book she had chosen and show us the pictures, and I was sold. I began reading on my own, not long books at first but anything that had a good looking cover I picked up and read. My competitive nature helped me that year, because I saw my best friend being praised for doing excellent work, and that made me work harder too.
In second grade I had a teacher who was a little snippy but I never had a problem with. She began teaching us multiplication tables and having us memorize our 0-12 times tables. I had a little more trouble with this, but I managed. My third grade teacher loved animals and had tortoises and a few other pets in her classroom. She got me really excited about animals, and interested in science. Once we each got a caterpillar and we watched them over a period of weeks transition from cocoon to butterfly. I loved that teacher, but she pushed us really hard and I began to get stressed out with the workload that was being piled up. In fourth grade I had one of my favorite teachers. She would read to us and draw diagrams of the setting of books on big poster boards. We would have spelling bees and I was rarely uninterested in the class. I was in a special math class in fourth grade, probably due to my poor performance in the previous year. I never thought that it was a bad thing, just that I needed a little extra help. At least until one boy started making fun of us, calling us special needs which hurt my feelings and made me question my intelligence. Was I really stupid when it came to math like he said? And while I never felt like I was good at math later on, I knew it was not stupidity that was the cause. Some things simply come naturally to people, and others require extreme effort.
Once I graduated from elementary school and moved on to middle school, things were totally different. We had to get up earlier and change classrooms when the subjects changed. In fifth grade I received a C in math and I was horrified. I knew I was better than that, so in sixth grade I still struggled but was able to keep my grade at a B. Also, in sixth grade one of my teachers decided that I was her favorite, for what reason I have no idea. But I did not like it because some of the other kids started thinking I was stuck up, so I mostly kept quiet and tried not to attract attention. In seventh grade I had four different teachers for my four main subjects who stuck with us through eighth grade. My science teacher was so incompetent at keeping the class on task and respectful of her that it frustrated me. My English teacher was a guy with a ponytail who was nice but made us write way too much. My social studies teacher reminded me of a cheerleader, always loud and bubbly, but I liked the way she taught. My math teacher was such a nice lady but I hated math which indirectly made me despise her. I could never wrap my head around the abstract concepts of Algebra 1, and I felt like I was asking way too many questions on how to do each problem. I also took chorus, which made me happy because all we did was sing. And I took home economics. The sewing part was awful, but the cooking was great. I did softball, basketball, and tennis between kindergarten and eighth grade and that was fun for me even though I was not exceptional at any of them. Finally, middle school ended but high school was only one parking lot away. Seriously, my middle school and high school were only separated by a tiny parking lot.
It may seem that I pointed out a lot of negative things, but like I said before, my early schooling was mostly a positive experience. I got good grades, most of my teachers liked me, and I made lots of lasting friendships that I still have to this day. Perhaps my retelling is mostly negative because bad experiences are recalled better than good ones simply because it is part of survival to learn from them. A few of my teachers made lasting impressions on me because they genuinely cared about me and put in extra effort to help me understand each concept. The attitude a teacher brings to their students really can be sensed by their students. I feel that if the teachers were not good at teaching or controlling a classroom, it made me not put forward one hundred percent of my effort. Those classes felt like a waste of time, but I learned a lot from my good teachers because they had the skills to keep me engaged and interested in learning about whatever they taught me. The work ethic my teachers instilled in me then has continued to help me and I am sure will help me for the rest of my life. After all, the point of school is to make a dramatic difference in how one conducts himself/herself in the future.
Do you remember that one teacher, that one from elementary school who made you realize you were special? That one that made you feel like you could be someone in the world? In my experience it was a few teachers: some from elementary school and a few from middle school. There was one in particular that really brought forth this idea, because he treated the students more like equals rather than little kids in a classroom. His name was Mr. DiPasquale and he was the Detention/Interactive American History Teacher for both 7th and 8th grade.
Mr. DiPasquale was my 8th grade History Teacher and he changed how I understood the subject and how much I enjoyed it as well. Before I had him I had enjoyed history but never wanted to go further into the subject.
My first experience with Mr. DiPasquale was not even during the year I took his class, it was during 7th grade when I got lunch detention with a couple of friends for having a raisin fight in the middle of lunch. Apparently having a good time and throwing little raisins that can’t even hurt someone is a bad thing. During the detention, while being strict, Mr. DiPasquale made you realize that even if you were having fun, someone could have gotten hurt. Though he did say this with absolutely no words, just strong and hard faces that sort of made you scared of him, but that just caused me to respect him as both an authority figure and a teacher.
When I got asked to be a part of his Living History class, as he and the students liked to call it, I was extremely happy because I thought he would never want to have me in his class due to the previous years’ experience.
Mr. DiPasquale was the best thing that could have happened for me at that moment. He made me remember my love for learning, something that hadn’t been there for a long time due to the bullying and boring teachers had during that time I wasn’t having the best time at school. Mr. DiPasquale’s class was new and interesting, he had us not only learning the material we needed; 8th grade,material, so second half of American History; he gave us a fun way of looking at it and understanding it. He had us walking on snowshoes through the back fields of Mildred E. Strang Middle School, he had us making camp like revolutionary war soldiers in Valley Forge, and yes, this was in December. One time we even took over the Home-Economics kitchen and made bison stew and hot apple cider from scratch. Mr. DiPasquale really changed my views on learning and school back to what they once had been from the hatred that had begun to grow with the bullying I faced.
The reason I love history so much now has so much to do with Mr. DiPasquale because he made me, one remember why I love to learn new things and enjoy reading as much as I do, and two because he reminded me that school is there for the students to learn their interests. One thing he did was make me want to go further in my study of history, whether it be reading about the younger years of Al Capone’s life and the British royal spy ring that was created and worked during the Second World War or taking classes that will tell me about little known things in the world that are very interesting whether they are widely known or not. Something else he did was make me realize that while I can learn really well from books that I also need to learn with a hands on approach. He was the teacher that changed my views on learning and reminded me of what I loved.
I was born in New London, Connecticut in February of 1996. About a year later, my family moved to Newport, Rhode Island, for my parents work and we stayed there until 1999. At that time my parents were looking for a more residential home, so we moved once again ending up at our current home in South Kingstown, Rhode Island. In South Kingstown, my education took place at the Peace Dale Early Learning Center, Peace Dale Elementary School, Broad Rock Middle School, Curtis Corner Middle Schools, and finally, South Kingstown High School. My experiences at these schools and with the people in them have shaped me to be the person I am today.
From first through fourth grade at Peace Dale Elementary School, I was a part of a program called Kaleidoscope. Kaleidoscope enabled four teachers to work together to create a fun and interactive schooling environment for their students. In this program, there were two first and second grade mixed classes, a third grade class, and a fourth grade class. During the day, the two classes of younger students would move between their classrooms for different subjects. For example, if it were time for math lessons, all the first grade students would move into one classroom and all the second grade students into another. These two teachers would work very closely to ensure the students got the most out of their time in both classrooms.
Not only were the younger classes closely linked, but several times a week, all the Kaleidoscope teachers would set aside time for “book buddies.” During this time, each of the first and second graders would be paired up with either a third or fourth grader and they would read to each other to enhance their learning experience. Additionally, at least once a week, all four classes would gather in the school library and have a group singing time. All the students would join into the silly songs their teachers had taught them including “A Pizza Hut,” “Black Socks,” and “Out the Window.”
This program was also very interactive for the parents of the students. Parents were constantly invited into the classrooms to assist the teachers and to watch as their children progressed. For my family, that meant my mother and sister would attend my class seeing as my younger sister was not yet old enough for school when I was in first and second grade. Additionally, during the winter and spring, Kaleidoscope hosted full day events asking the parents to volunteer to lead activities. In the winter, the Kaleidoscope event would be hosted among the four Kaleidoscope classrooms and children could move from one activity to another for a day of fun. It was the same for the spring, except the event was structured as a picnic and held at a local park. The parental involvement of Kaleidoscope definitely enhanced the learning experience for me and all the other students involved.
During my years in Kaleidoscope, I made many friends, some of which moved away and most I drifted away from. Although this is true, in the years after I found that my best friend for life was in that small group of students involved in Kaleidoscope. Although we were not good friends back then, having known each other for years led me and my best friend, Kate, to reconnect in high school. There is no better way to bond with someone than over childhood memories. Having known each other so long, Kate and I are able to connect on a deeper level and give each other the support we need when the other is feeling down.
I believe that programs such as Kaleidoscope enhance the learning experience. They leave children with deeper connections and memorable experiences. If there were more programs throughout the country that were dedicated to making learning fun the way Kaleidoscope did, I believe students would take more out of their lessons and become deeper learners later in life. The keys to friendship, confidence, and determination can be taken from such experiences.With those tools in one’s metaphorical toolbox, one may achieve anything.
From a young age, I’ve developed my own sort of mantra to get me through school. Do as much as you can, you’ll thank yourself later. Naturally, I cannot take all the credit for this mindset; in Goshen Central School District, there were options for students like me. I was fortunate enough to be able to take honors classes beginning in eighth grade. My work ethic was grounded from those advanced classes, and helped me get where I am today, academically.
My experience with being singled out started at a young age. In kindergarten, my teacher Mrs. D’Addio split the class into several reading groups. I was in a group with one other person. The two of us had a separate group because we could read at a first grade level. Looking back, I remember reading a lot with m mother before I started kindergarten which explains my ease at reading. We were in the smallest group among the class, but that meant nothing to me when I was four and a half years old. At that time, no one really understood what the division of the class meant, nor did we care. I read the books I was given obediently, not having the insight to know I was different from anyone else.
As I got older, my eyes began to open to the different types of students. I couldn’t tell the difference between deep learners or surface learners; that came much later in my school career. In third grade, I was in my first inclusion class. This means that a portion of the class was considered special education students. None had serious learning disabilities; most were nearly unidentifiable from another child’s perspective. My parents were skeptical about this type of learning environment. Would it slow down my education? Would it benefit me somehow? My parents decided that it would be a good learning experience for me to be in an untraditional classroom setting. Learning alongside of these children helped me gain knowledge outside of the standard curriculum.
In retrospect, I became a sort of mentor for the children with disabilities. I was their age, so I wasn’t intimidating to them. My teachers would often let me read to them at literacy time, which enhanced my reading skills and their listening and focus. It was a mutualistic relationship, and I enjoyed it very much. Sometimes, if the designated special education teacher—we had a regular teacher and a special education-certified teacher—was busy grading papers or working one-on-one with a student, I got to assist children with their homework or simple activities such as vocabulary sheets. The students respected me for my help and patience, and I respected them for their hard work, even when the schoolwork was challenging for them. I’m thankful I had the opportunity to work with the special education students; it was my first piece of insight regarding what I call ‘real life.’ That sounds derogatory to an educator, but the experiences to follow later in my grade school career may explain my terminology.
I’d like to take a moment to point out that I was never the smartest student. In fact, throughout my school career, I’ve engaged in plenty of debates regarding my academic standards. Many might say that because I get good grades, I am naturally smart. To clear up any confusion, I am not naturally smart; I have a respectable work ethic. This makes a difference to me, although for some people who don’t value school as highly as I do, it might seem the same. It is not easy for me to maintain high grades or to participate in honors classes, which in grade school, were truly harder. They weren’t just ‘different.’
I recall the day I took the advanced placement tests—way back in seventh grade—to determine whether I was eligible to skip eighth grade level mathematics and science. The eighty students who did become eligible, and chose to participate, went into eighth grade taking all the same classes as everyone else, with the exception of math and science, which were ninth grade levels. At the end of the year, it was mandatory for those students to take the Regents Exams for the designated classes, just as a freshman in any New York high school would. Those grades would be recorded, kept on file, and eventually sent to college senior year.
As a twelve year old, I was fortunate to understand what a huge responsibility it would be to take such classes. I was ready for the weight of the pressure to learn, to focus, and to get ahead. Selection for advanced placement was a weighted combination of grades for math and science throughout the year, scores on the examinations, and teacher recommendation. The selection process always raised grief of parents whose children didn’t get into the program, but I thought it was a fair determination. It wasn’t solely on grades, but grades were a larger fraction of it. I went into those two tests with an idea of how I would do; math was always my strongest subject and science was my weakest. I reasoned that if I got into advanced math and not science, I was still saving myself some trouble later on in school, so I should be happy with that.
To my surprise, I got two letters in the mail that June. They were both structured similarly, but one said I was invited to take advanced algebra, and the other for advanced biology. I was pleased with the recognition of my hard work, but I didn’t think I could handle being in a higher level of science considering it was always my weakest subject. My parents let me make the choice to accept of decline the invitation myself. I knew that they secretly didn’t want me to take biology because it’d put too much stress on me, and an eighth grader does not need a large quantity of stress. I promised myself that I was capable of pushing myself harder and that I should never pass down an opportunity to do so.
In the fall, I began my first accelerated classes. Algebra was a breeze and biology tested my patience for frustration, just as I expected. I spent countless days after school with my biology teacher, Ms. Muller. I researched several websites with vocabulary and videos trying to connect the chapters of the textbook together in my head. I finished the classes with quarterly grades and Regents exam grades both above ninety. I proved to myself, my teachers, and my parents that I could do it if I told myself I could and put in a little more effort. To this day, I’ve never slowed down, and I’ve never quit the honors route.
Ryan Smith
EDC102H
Academic Autobiography Project
When thinking back to my days in elementary and middle school, the first memory that comes to mind is the passion I displayed for learning. From the very first day of elementary school all the way through middle school I displayed fervor for each subject I was taught. Classes weren’t spent staring out the window or texting friends, but instead were spent being engaged in the particular material. The fact that I came to school excited and ready to learn made my elementary and middle school experiences magical.
Elementary school, for myself and for several other children, is an amazing time to learn. During the elementary school years children have an uncanny ability to absorb everything they hear. Elementary school was a time where I could inform anyone with numerous animal facts, recall famous historic events, and identify different types of rocks. The range of subjects we covered was likely so large because teachers knew of our active interest. Often times I would return to my home bursting with knowledge, unable to wait to tell my parents about everything I had learned in school that day. One thing I remember in particular is the frequency at which we were assigned reports. Writing reports on even a monthly basis allowed me to be passionate about a certain subject for some period of time. Whether it was a report on Abe Lincoln, alpacas, or the town of Warren, I would have an obsession for a week. In fact, writing reports was so enjoyable for me I can remember writing a report on different types of sharks – only it was on my own time, and it was just for my satisfaction.
One particular teacher I remember from elementary school was my second grade teacher, Mrs. Reilly-Chaves. The way her class was taught was unique in the sense that she made me feel as if I were capable of anything. Most students’ writing assignments would be handed in on bland pieces of lined paper, and would never be anything more than that. However, in Mrs. Reilly-Chaves class I was presented with the opportunity to have my story published in a small (roughly 12 page) hard cover book. The fact that she went the distance to make her students feel like their work was significant said enough about her as a teacher.
Middle school was another time where I was able to have a passion that involved learning: reading. Reading became a hobby when I was only one year into my middle school experience. In particular, Greek mythology was my favorite topic to read about. I found a few series’ that involved Greek mythology and I was hooked, spending a lot more of my free time reading than doing anything else. Because reading a certain number of books per trimester was required in middle school, my hobby was only encouraged. I was always told that hard work is rewarded with success. During middle school, this idea was reinforced when students who achieved ‘high honors’ were rewarded with an ice cream party at the end of the trimester. Even though a reward like that was a nice motivator to work hard, I always worked hard in middle school for myself. I knew that at the end of the day, I would benefit if I tried my hardest in school. That alone pushed me to be the best student I could be throughout my middle school years.
Without a doubt the most memorable teacher I had during middle school was my seventh grade social studies teacher, Mr. Seger. Mr. Seger had a distinct teaching style where he would try to engage the students as much as possible. He joked around frequently during classes, but at the same time he was efficient in presenting material planned for the class. A positive classroom atmosphere was undoubtedly beneficial. Again, the fact that I looked forward to attending his class made the learning experience that much better.
Overall, in my middle school and elementary school years I learned a few essential life skills. Firstly and likely most importantly, I learned that passion is key to success. If you are excited to go to a class, you’ll likely get a lot more out of it than if you walk in with a pessimistic attitude. I also learned that all teachers are different, and depending on the teacher and their style the outcome of the class will differ. All the same, each of my teachers shaped me into the student I am today.
Elementary school and Middle school are years of my life that I do not remember very well at all and am not sure how it had a very significant influence on making me the person I am today. I believe that High school was the time of my life that I changed the most and had the most influence on my study habits and behavior. There where however a few things that come to mind when I think of Elementary school memories, mostly teachers that I have faint but fond memories of.
When I was a young child the language that was spoken around my house was Polish since my father is a polish immigrant, who still today has a thick accent, and my mother’s parents were both born in Poland and she tends to speak it to my father. Polish was technically my first language which I knew fluently before I entered preschool when I was forced to change the language I use every day to English. I don’t have any memories of struggling in early grade school but I do have faint memories of being taken out of class every day by the same teacher and going to a separate room with two other classmates and learning reading skills through computer games and work books. Since I never really thought twice about this I called my mom and explained the purpose of this assignment and about the memory of reading lessons. She explained to me how I learned to speak English rather quickly however I was below average in reading and writing. For two years I was part of a special help group for those children who were having a lot of difficulty with reading. This came as a bit of a surprise to me because I remember being in the highest reading levels in middle school and going through a crazy read-aholic phase in sixth and seventh grade. I think it’s depressing that I don’t remember this teacher’s name that used to help me for years just to get on par with other students.
The other teacher who I have very fond memories of was my Band teacher Mr. Jones. I played the trumpet from 4th grade to 8th grade and the most fun i’ve had playing it was in elementary school partially because it was new and exciting to me and my teacher kept on pushing me to succeed at playing. I would have lessons at the end of certain days when other trumpet players and I would go to towards the later part of the school day and I remember it being the best part of my day where I wanted to learn how to play not because I had to but because Mr. Jones made me want to. throughout most of elementary school I do not have very many memories of him, however I do have one that I will always remember and hopefully it will help provide a picture of how amusing he really was. So most days I would spend a good part of my recess break hanging upside down from my legs on monkey bars for reasons I can’t possible imagine, however one day he noticed that I always hung upside down on them and walked up to me. He told me that if I kept on hanging upside down like that my brain would begin to ooze out of my ears. After thinking about it for a second I responded that it couldn’t possible happen. He just tilts his head and tells me “Adam, would I ever lie to you?” and that stumped me so much that I couldn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day. It was humor and an overall attitude like that that made me really enjoy being his student. Just being funny doesn’t really cut it to be a great memorable teacher but I was in 5th grade and didn’t have the attention span beyond that.
schoolAmanda Ward
EDC
Early schooling
Up until the third grade I enjoyed school. I did not feel stressed or pressure and actually liked going to school to learn. I struggled in reading, but got extra help during half of math class to help me catch up with the majority of my peers. Then, my parents decided that they wanted me to go to a better school than my town's public school, so they sent me to a private school called Saint Mary's in Danvers. From third grade up until junior year in high school I did not truly enjoy school.
St. Mary’s transformed the way that I looked at school, but not in a positive light. Starting in third grade I started relating the feeling of stress and anxiety in to going to school. The teachers were not very fond of students who took a longer time to grasp the subject matter they were teaching. Granted, there were a select few teachers who were patient and approached learning in a less aggressive matter, but the majority of teachers were harsh. The years of third, fourth, and fifth grade are hazy but I do remember that those were the years that I truly started feeling trouble and distress towards school and learning. The opportunity to become a deep learner was lost with the stress of memorization, and I slowly became an extreme surface learner.
Surface learning continued to be the way I learned through out middle school. Seventh grade induced more stress on me in school than any other year because I had not yet learned how to deal with it. My seventh grade teacher, Mrs. Curtis, was a spiteful woman with no sympathy. Her face was very aged and her hair was shoulder length and grey; she never smiled unless it was while making fun of a student. Ever since her seventh grade class I have suffered from extreme test anxiety. She would call out students for wrong answers and embarrass them in front of the class to try and prove a point. One memory of her will always stay with me. I had asked her how to spell a word and she told me to go to the front of the class. She then put a dictionary in front of me and made the entire class watch as I struggled to find the word. When I could not find it, she placed another dictionary in front of me and told me to continue looking. Many kids in the class were laughing and thought her mockery of me was entertaining. This process continued and I had gone through six dictionaries before she called up another innocent student to look for the word. When they could not find the word either, she looked in the dictionary herself and it appeared the word was not in it. She then told me to go back to my seat and never told me how to spell the word. Incidences like these occurred both seventh and eight grade. I have hated public speaking, giving presentations, and being alone in front of large crowds ever since then.
After middle school, I was certain that I was going to a public school for high school. When I attended Danvers High School my school experience slowly started improving. It wasn’t until junior year that I truly started learning to deal with anxiety about tests and giving presentations. I had some of the best teachers my junior and senior year. I was lucky to have understanding teachers these years that would push you to do your best, get to know you personally, and always try to make you feel comfortable. Although they could not get rid of all the damage from my elementary and middle school years, they truly did help me and changed the way I approached school.
The influence of my early schooling damaged the way I approached school. Over time, my attitude and worth ethics have slowly changed for the better. I hope I can continue to improve them as I advance in school.
From age one I lived in a small town called Barrington, known for its “amazing” school system it had to offer. As a child in a public school, I was never told that I was “dumb” or “stupid”, but this was the way I was always left feeling.
From an early age, I was tested. Being young and all, it felt like I was being tested nearly every day, but in reality it was once a week. I was pulled from my first grade class to be assessed on my reading proficiency; sometimes they would ask me questions after my reading and other times they would just count how many words I had read in the given time. I remember knowing that I wasn't normal for whatever reason and no one ever took the time to explain to me why they were doing so; all I knew was that I wasn't doing “good enough”.
Being tested and being aware that other students were not I began to think this made different but I was too afraid to ask. Eventually during my year in my second grade they took me out of my English class altogether. I became a part of a program where they taught us our spelling rules and we all read out loud together. But nothing about it was positive, I remember feeling secluded from my friends when I went to practice some dreadful reading exercises. From the very beginning, I was discouraged; I worked my butt off every time they sent me to my “special” class, but somehow I was meant to terminate here. But eventually I pulled through it and made it, I had a month of clear proficiency and was accepted to attend English with my friends again; of course they were required to continue to test me and make sure that I didn’t fall behind. My mom was never too concerned mainly because she thought it was my school’s way of keeping up our scores, so we could continue to be ranked one of the highest in the state.
But as time went on my mom decided it wasn't just the school, in fact I was still missing something. This is when she decided to help me find other resource so I could master my reading skills and took me to a private tutor where my parents paid $80/hour for weeks upon weeks. Of course, I felt guilty that my parents were spending so much money (at that point $10 was a lot) but this was the first time I saw how important my reading was. It awed me that my mom was willing to spend that much money for me to learn how to be a better reader, because at this point I had almost accepted being a failure. I remember my tutor trying to start at the beginning with the sound that every letter made along with all the rules that went with them.
There was an improvement in my reading skills, but it wasn't what she expected to see. My mom never wanted me to feel dumb when I would cry out of frustration my mom would tell me that I’m just as smart as the other kids but it just might be more effort for me, which I never thought was fair. When my frustration became a regular occurrence, my mom thought it was time to take me to see the master of all the tests: the neuropsychologist. This the first time I was able to receive any answers. After 8 hours of testing and missing a day of school, I had become diagnosed with Dyslexia.
I felt relief. It wasn't me; it was Dyslexia. It finally wasn't me, it was the condition. I remember a weight off of my shoulder and so did all of my educators at the time.
Why is this the way the education system works? Why is it that if we don't fit in with other scores we are forced to feel incapable? No one in my schooling took the time to realize that my level of proficiency in math was through the roof, and therefore it wasn't that I was dumb. Where don’t we educate our teachers about learning differences?